


The Storm Breaks with Lightning and Wind

by AYeti



Category: Portrait de la jeune fille en feu | Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, I DON'T KNOW HOW TO TAG OK, Loss of Virginity, Mentions of Suicide, Mutual Pining, POV Kara Danvers, Slow Burn, The Portrait of a Lady on Fire SuperCorp AU nobody asked for, i am too soft for extreme heartache to be permanent, i guess?????, just in case, people are worried Lena might yeet herself off a cliff, she doesn't tho, so i write the sexy times, there are implications of suicide, this is the most tender sex I've ever written, y'all asked for sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AYeti/pseuds/AYeti
Summary: In 1760, Kara Danvers is hired by the elusive Lillian Luthor to paint a portrait of her daughter, Lena. Lillian intends to marry Lena off in order for the Luthors to remain wealthy, and the prospective husband requested a portrait to be made. The catch is that Kara must paint the portrait without Lena knowing because Lena does not wish to be married; she refuses to pose for a portrait.With a sick sister at home, Kara accepts the job to save Alex's life. What happens when Kara becomes closer to Lena than she ever expected to, and how will Lena react to Kara's hidden agenda? What happens when Kara is no longer sure the ends justify the means?orThe Portrait of a Lady on Fire SuperCorp AU that nobody asked for, but that I needed to write.Fic title is from Summer by Vivaldi and the explanation of it from the movie.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 69
Kudos: 259





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> You don't need to have watched Portrait of a Lady on Fire in order for this to make sense. It's not an exact replica of the movie, though I did keep many of the themes. I changed the backstories and some motivations in order to keep the fic distinct and separate from the movie while making sure that people who haven't watched can still enjoy this fic. :)

_The only sound was the gentle scrape of charcoal across a fresh canvas, all soft curves and bold strokes that stained Kara’s fingers black. The silhouette. The core of painting. Kara liked to take her time understanding it. She certainly took her time understanding the core of her painting of Lena Luthor, but she hadn’t expected to become quite so understanding of Lena Luthor herself._

* * *

The waves were just shy of nauseating as the men rowed Kara to the large island of Thorul. The navigator stood at the front with a telescope as if the journey was much more difficult than it was. Kara had to keep a firm hold of the rucksack and crate that held her belongings lest the rocking of the boat toss them overboard. 

The sun beat down and heated her black woolen coat and she perspired through it, but the wind was too strong for her to remove it. She looked behind her toward Thorul - proud and steady against the movement of the water, wondering how much longer she would have to deal with the waves. Kara had only looked for a moment but when she turned back around, her canvas box had toppled over the side of the small wooden boat.

“Oh gosh!” Kara stood from her seat (though they had told her several times not to) and the four men who rowed the boat looked between her and the crate full of her painting supplies with mild interest as the ocean pulled it further and further away. 

Kara removed her hot coat as fast as she could. The wind cooled her sweat and she shivered but it was nothing in comparison to the icy cold that overtook her as she plunged into the sea. 

She sputtered at the salty water that burned her eyes and nose but she could not let her painting supplies get lost at sea. As rescues went, she thought it was a good one, though the men on the boat were of little help. They didn’t even row toward her. They sat in the middle of the ocean and Kara tugged the crate back toward them as her dress threatened to pull her under.

At least the men had the decency to pull both her and the crate back into the boat before they went back to ignoring her, though they grumbled at the water that washed out of her dress and into the boat. It got their shoes a little wet. Kara stifled an eye roll at them. She was lucky to have not lost her shoes as she swam.

For however heated Kara had been before, she was every bit as freezing after that, and the wool of her coat could not keep her warm enough for the rest of her journey. 

Kara tried to keep her pout to a minimum. The sandy shore of Thorul was only a few hundred feet away. The waves crashed against the high cliffside in the distance, the rock of it made gold in the light of the setting sun, and despite Kara’s chattering teeth, she was glad she was there to paint. Even if it was for the Luthor family.

She was still cold when they reached the island, the soaked material of her burgundy dress clung to her and weighed her down as she trudged through the sand of the beach. As if the corset wasn’t uncomfortable enough already. 

It felt strange to walk on steady land after a whole day on a small boat. Her body had gotten so used to the rocking that she felt as though waves still threatened to tip her over. Kara was grateful for the short distance the navigator carried her crate and rucksack behind her and she struggled with the weight of her skirts as they made their way over the rocky dunes. He dropped her parcels onto a stone and turned back toward the boat without another word. 

“Wait!” Kara called after the navigator. “Which way do I go?” 

He pointed up a steep and rocky incline. “Head up toward the treeline. You’ll find a path.” 

It seemed the Luthors had not paid him to help her carry her things - which, considering their wealth, was rather inconsiderate - but Kara couldn’t fault the man for wanting to leave. The sun was setting fast and the first stars of the night began to seep into the pink sky above them. 

Kara took a deep breath before she heaved her painting crate over one shoulder by its ropes, and tied her rucksack over her other side. She was lucky she and Alex were so active, otherwise, she might not have had the energy to carry her things up the moss-covered boulders and across the grassy plain at the peak of the cliff. The thought of her ill sister spurred her onward, despite the way her ankles threatened to roll over the boulders she climbed.

The path through the trees was much easier to walk after stumbling over loose cobbles, but by the time Kara walked up to the large, stone mansion, the sunlight had faded completely and crickets had begun to chirp.

Crumbling concrete pillars led up to the front door, and the closer Kara got, the more imposing Luthor Manor seemed. Though the building was old and the outside stone was weather-worn, the grounds were clear of any shrubbery, and no vines grew onto the building. The Luthors were old money, Kara had known, but she had never been lucky enough to stay at such a large estate or seen such wealth up close. 

She took a deep breath before she knocked at the door, hesitating for a moment. This was it. Her first official job as an artist, though she had years of experience, and had studied under the best. The Luthors had needed a female artist for some reason, and the Lady of the house, Lillian, had thought Kara’s work would be the best. Kara was lucky. Opportunities like these were few and far between, especially for women. 

The clink of the latch made Kara jump and the door creaked open. A small, dark-haired woman peeked through the crack, illuminated by the candlestick she held. Her bonnet and white dressing gown indicated her position as a Lady’s Maid.

“Hi, I’m Kara,” she said with a smile. She was tired from her journey, but there was still room for politeness. 

The woman opened the door wider and beckoned Kara inside, glancing down at how Kara’s dress still dripped at the hem. She said nothing about the mess Kara dragged through the house and led Kara into the cold, stone foyer. There were doors downstairs, but the woman took Kara’s crate and led her up a stone staircase instead.

The moon glowed in through the expansive windows in large, blue squares, illuminating the distinct lack of decor. The metal railing of the curved staircase was painted black and even if Kara hadn’t had to jump into the ocean, she thought she would still feel cold in Luthor Manor.

She was led to a room to the immediate right on the top floor. All doors were painted a uniform white, and despite everything being pristine, there seemed to be only the Lady’s Maid on staff and no other servants. That was unusual for a wealthy family. 

Kara’s room was bigger than the entire apartment she shared with Alex back home in National City. Despite the late hour, the glass panes of the windows were so large that the moon made the room glow in inky blue light. As Kara looked around, the Lady’s Maid lit a fire in the fireplace; another thing Kara didn’t have back home. She and Alex kept their small, shared room warm with the heat of their stove. Kara shook the thought away. 

The wooden floorboards creaked under Kara’s feet as she approached the hearth. “So, do you have a name? Have you been here long?” 

The woman gave Kara an odd look, probably not used to being addressed so casually, but Kara smiled at her anyway. 

“Jess. I’ve worked for the Luthor family all my life,” Jess said as she stoked the flames. Kara took off her coat so she could feel the heat through her damp skirt.

“Do you like it? Working for the Luthors, I mean,” Kara asked as she hung her coat up on the drying rack next to the hearth. 

“Yes,” Jess said quickly before she darted her eyes away. Kara’s brow furrowed. She was about to ask more but Jess stood and wiped her hands on her apron. “I’ll let you get dry.” 

Jess hurried out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Kara alone in the nicest accommodations she had ever seen. 

Kara was freezing and exhausted from her trip. She could find out more from Jess later. Being friendly with the staff wasn’t frowned upon, exactly, but most people thought Kara strange for it. It was the best way to get information, though, and Kara liked to be nice to everyone, servant or not. 

Kara was quick to untie her skirt and unlace her corset. They stuck to her still clammy skin, and she slipped out of her damp bloomers too. Even all the clothes from her rucksack were wet with seawater, and Kara sighed as she hung everything near the heat of the fire, then let her long hair loose from its bun on the top of her head so it would dry faster. 

She took her small, metal pry bar out of her rucksack to check on her canvases, hoping they hadn’t been damaged. 

The metal nails that held the crate closed screeched against the wood as she eased the lid off, and Kara groaned at the sodden cloth within. The canvases still lay smooth over their wooden frames, so Kara placed each of them on either side of the fireplace to dry with the rest of her things. 

She felt exposed, being naked in a strangers’ home, but the orange glow warmed Kara’s skin, so she sat in front of the fire. Kara let the warmth ease away her travels and waited for her painter’s apron to dry before she decided to explore the house. It wasn’t proper dress, but it would have to do because she was starving. 

She sinched the white material around her waist, and had no choice but to go barefooted; all her stockings and shoes were still wet. The apron was covered in paint, and Kara had to chuckle at herself as she walked through the airy, grey halls. The stone floors outside her bedroom were so cold they cramped her toes, but the thought of food encouraged her. 

Jess had lit the candles of the chandelier in the foyer, and Kara followed the crackle of a fire and the smell of bread toward the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled before she could announce herself, and she smiled sheepishly when Jess startled at the noise. 

“I can get you some food if you’d like, miss,” Jess said with a gesture to the pantry. 

Kara failed at keeping a respectable pace as she crossed the room and yanked the pantry doors open. She was ravenous. She selected an entire loaf of bread and some cheese, but the pantry was sparse, so she left everything else. For now. 

She sat at the large, wooden table in the middle of the kitchen on the side closest to the fire, and she pulled the bread apart. She groaned at the first bite. Jess stared at her and Kara had the decency to blush. “Sorry I helped myself. We don’t have maids at my house and I’m starving.”

Jess smiled at her with a slight bow to her head. “Would you like some wine to go with it?” 

“Please!” Kara beamed. Jess poured her a respectable quarter glassful before Kara gestured to the seat beside her. “Join me if you’d like.” 

Jess bunched her skirts as she sat, waiting for Kara’s next instruction.

“What’s your young mistress like?” Kara asked in a casual tone. The rumors of Lillian and Lex were… something, but there was very little information about Lena. 

Jess bit her lip and looked down at the table. Kara continued to shovel food into her mouth as she waited Jess out. “I don’t know her well.”

“You said you’ve worked here all your life.” Kara tilted her head to the side and spoke around the food in her mouth. 

“For Mrs. Luthor, yes. Her daughter had been away at boarding school. I only met her three weeks ago,” Jess explained. 

“She’s been at boarding school for all that time?” Kara asked. Jess nodded. 

“Mrs. Luthor brought her home after… after her brother died,” Jess murmured. 

Lex had been hanged for treason, bringing much shame upon the Luthor family name, and Kara had considered not accepting the job, but she and Alex needed the money. Alex needed medicine. Kara hadn’t thought it likely that the rest of the household was like Lex, and the payment was well above what women were generally offered. 

She and Alex agreed that she should take the job and be careful. Alex had tried to convince Kara to take Alex too, but she was too sick to travel. 

“How will you manage to paint her?” Jess interrupted Kara’s thoughts. 

Kara’s eyebrows furrowed at the question. “What do you mean?” 

“There was another painter before you. A man. He quit.” 

“Well, I’m a good painter, and I don’t give up as easily as a man,” Kara said with a smile before she took a sip of wine. Jess grinned at her. 

“Then perhaps you will have more luck.” 

After eating, Kara went back to her room. The furniture was covered in white, protective sheets, and frankly, it creeped Kara out, so she began to uncloak everything so that she could turn in for the night and not have nightmares of ghosts. She would never admit it, but after having shared a room with her sister for so long, sleeping alone scared her.

She uncovered basic furnishings mostly, like the wardrobe, a mirror, and a settee, but she also found an old wooden piano. She pressed a few keys. It was slightly out of tune, so she let the fabric drop back over it. 

She pulled a cloak off of an easel and gasped at the painting before her. It was oil, the same kind Kara used, and before her was a painting of a woman, but instead of where her head should have been, there was the absence of anything except for the background brown of the portrait. There was nothing, not even an outline. No core, no understanding. The brushstrokes heavy and bold, escaping from the woman’s neck, making Kara think of thick plumes of smoke. 

After getting over her initial shock, Kara brought her candle closer to the painting to appreciate what parts of the woman were there. Without a head, Kara couldn’t know what Miss Luthor looked like, but the way her flesh was painted reminded Kara of moonlight mirroring into a still lake. It was so pale it glowed, its contrast jarring against the silky, emerald green of the dress the woman wore. 

Why had the painter who came before her given up? They were good. Maybe they just couldn’t paint faces? The rest of the painting was lovely; graceful curves, soft skin, delicate hands. 

Kara was too tired to wonder about it and tucked herself into the soft, downy bed that had been made up for her. The sheets were softer and whiter than any she’d used before, and Kara’s day was quick to catch up with her, pulling her into a deep slumber. 

* * *

Lillian looked exactly as Kara had expected her to. Much like her house, she was tall and imposing and seemed to like to stare down her nose at Kara. Her personality had shone through in their correspondence, and Lillian was every bit as cold and calculating as her letters had indicated she would be. Jess had woken Kara up a little after the sun had risen and helped her into her dress, claiming that the Lady of the house wanted to speak with Kara urgently. 

Jess led Kara to a study that was filled with bookshelves built into the rich mahogany walls. A painting of Lillian dominated the wall behind her desk, a reflection of the hard woman who sat there. Her eyes were the most expressive part of her and reminded Kara of a hawk, or any other large bird that prayed on helpless creatures. Though many years had passed since it was painted, Lillian’s eyes were still as sharp and penetrating as they had been when her portrait was created. 

Kara recognized it immediately. Her eldest cousin had done the painting years before. Before he and their family had died of influenza, and she was adopted by the Danvers. 

“I see you recognize it,” Lillian said. Kara nodded as she took a seat across from her. “Clark painted it before my marriage to Lionel. You’re the next best thing-” 

“Better,” Kara corrected before she pressed her lips together to keep quiet. Lillian lifted an eyebrow at her.

“I’m sure you’ve heard how Alexander died,” Lillian continued without acknowledging the interruption. “His crimes have caused this manor more problems than even I can deal with, and without a husband or a man of the house, I’m afraid our fortune won’t be able to take care of us for much longer,” Lillian spoke with the same cool detachment that she’d used in the letters, and it made Kara uncomfortable to hear such tragedy spoken so plainly. She shifted in her chair, but could not get comfortable. “I’ve found Lena a suitor in Metropolis. If he likes your painting of her, they will wed and we will go there to live with him.”

“He’ll like it,” Kara said. The corners of Lillian’s lips quirked up in a smile, but instead of appeasing Kara, it felt more akin to a threat than anything. 

“The artist before you said the same, and Lena chased him off within a week.”

“Why?”

“Lena refuses to pose. She will not show painters her face, she will not sit still. In short, she refuses this marriage, despite me explaining to her that we will become common folk without it. She doesn’t care at all.” Lillian’s green eyes flashed with anger that made Kara’s skin crawl before Lillian looked up at the portrait of herself. “You must paint Lena without her knowing that you are painting her. I’ve told her that I hired you to escort her on walks. She’s delighted. I haven’t let her out of the house since I brought her back from boarding school.” 

Kara frowned. Though Luthor Manor was large, it was also hallow. Kara would feel lonely stuck inside. “Why can she not go out alone?”

“She took the death of her brother hard. He… was her only friend and now that he’s gone. Suffice to say that the cliffs of this island are high enough for a woman who refuses to be married.”

Kara blinked and images of the high, rocky outcroppings of the island flashed before her eyes, waves crashing against them and spraying sea mist into the air. She shook the thought away. 

“She thinks I’m here to watch over her?” Kara asked. 

“Yes.” Lillian folded her hands on her desk. “Watch her. Study her. But paint her without her knowledge. It’s why your payment is so high. Can you do it?” 

Kara’s eyebrows drew together as she thought of the jarring, unfinished painting that had been abandoned in her room. She was sure she could paint that much at least. Painting someone’s face would be much easier if they modeled, but Kara thought she could do without it if she had enough time to study Lena. She bit her lip. Was it ethical to paint someone unawares, so that their mother could marry them off? 

As Kara thought it over, Lillian pulled a large coin purse from her desk and dropped it onto its surface with a heavy clink. “Half now, half later. As discussed.”

Kara frowned down at the bag of money. She needed it. Alex needed it. Kara’s whole family had died of influenza; she knew the signs well. Kara refused to lose Alex too. Her decision had been made for her. “I’ll do it. But I’ll need time.” 

Though Lillian smiled at Kara, she didn’t feel any better about the choice she had to make. Her palms were already beginning to sweat at the thought of lying, but there was nothing she could do. She would have to paint Lena in secret if she wanted to save Alex. Kara owed Alex everything; getting money for medicine was the least she could do, and with the rest of the money, they wouldn’t need to worry so much. 

Besides, if Kara walked away, she had no doubt Lillian would hire another artist to lie, Lena Luthor would get painted anyway and Alex would still be sick. When she picked up the coin purse, the heaviness in her stomach grew with each clink of metal. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara meets Lena and begins to try to memorize Lena by the few glimpses she is able to see.

Lillian left immediately after their meeting with a promise (or a threat, Kara couldn’t tell) to be back in a week. Lillian had stood from her chair, ordered Jess to help her into her coat, and left without saying goodbye to Lena. Kara watched through the stained window as Lillian walked down the path that led to the shore.

Though there were rules through all social classes, Kara could never quite wrap her head around the idea of marrying for social or financial benefit. Eliza, though she wanted her daughters to be married and happy, never pushed them towards anybody. Kara was glad for it; she would hate to have the freedom of choice revoked as so many upper-class women did. If she married, she wanted it to be for love. Alex said the idea of marrying some man who thought he was better than her at everything made her want to vomit more than her illness did. 

Kara wasn’t opposed to marriage, but she liked the idea of painting far better. No man had ignited the same kind of passion in Kara that art had, and men who were willing to court a woman whose sole purpose in life was her career were few and far between (though she published her work under her cousin’s name, both to honor him and to get fair critiques based on the male name). 

After a quick breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and three apples (Jess hid her surprise relatively well in Kara’s opinion), Kara went back to her room.

She had seven days before Lillian came to check her progress. Just one week to get the painting going, and though Kara had never seen Lena, Kara could at least start the background. She wasn’t sure it would be enough time, especially with no model, and only a small portion of the day’s sun to paint with.

The huge windows lit the bedroom in dusty sunbeams, and Kara had never been less lacking in light. The faded periwinkle blue of the walls made Kara feel like she was outside painting under the sky itself, the sun’s rays beaming off of the wooden floor. 

She shrugged on her painter’s apron before mixing the dark acrylic brown with some water for a base. She asked Jess about the green dress from the portrait the old painter had left behind. 

Kara thought that since she could not paint Lena in the dress, it might be helpful to study the garment itself. 

Jess brought the dress to Kara’s room, both were careful to keep it away from Kara’s painting zone, which could easily be hidden behind a long, sliding curtain that hung from the ceiling. A privacy divider of sorts. With the pull of the fabric, all proof that Kara had any painting supplies at all vanished from sight. Her bed was also hidden behind the curtain, and she could use propriety as an excuse for keeping it drawn. 

“She won’t notice the dress missing,” Jess said as she held it out for Kara to inspect. “She said she’d sooner burn it than even look at it.”

The dress itself was as silky as the other painter’s depiction of it, but its weight was surprising. The boustiér alone felt like a brick, and even Kara struggled under the weight of the multitude of thick layers of the bustle skirt. The fabric was stiff; like it had never been worn. Kara frowned. It probably hadn’t been. If Lena refused to pose for portraits, she probably refused the dress as well. Kara set the dress aside and went back to the coffee-colored strokes that created the background of the portrait, lost in the art until Jess returned.

“Lena is ready for her walk,” Jess said. Kara wiped her hands on her apron before she removed it. She dropped her brush and paints onto a crate next to her easel and dragged the dark blue curtain across the room, keeping everything hidden from view. 

Kara bit her lip as Lillian’s words echoed in her mind. She wasn’t sure how to ask what she needed to, shifting from foot to foot as Jess raised an eyebrow at her. “Sorry, it’s just… Lillian said something, and I was wondering how closely you think I should watch Lena. You know-uh, near the cliffs.” 

“Oh,” Jess said. She pursed her lips in thought for a moment. “Her brother was the only one who treated her with kindness, and even that was rare. I think she’s lonely, but perhaps a walk outside will help.” 

“Yeah.” Kara nodded and shook the thought of the cliffs away again. It wasn’t a thought she liked, even if she’d never met Lena before. The idea of anybody taking their life because their reality was too awful to bear made Kara’s stomach churn more than the ocean waves had. “Okay. Thank you, Jess.” 

“Of course. I’ll clean up your paints while you’re out,” Jess said. Kara thanked her again and bumped into the doorway. She took a deep breath, apologized to the doorframe, and walked out of her room. 

As Kara walked across the landing and down the turns of the staircase, Lena’s frame came into view. She stood in a black cloak with a hood pulled over her head, already facing the doorway. Lena did not turn at the sound of Kara’s footsteps, she merely waited for them to be near enough before opening the front door and strutting out of the mansion at a brisk pace.

Lena stomped her way through the brown and yellow leaves that littered the path to the shore, and slowly, in time with the beat of her footsteps, Lena's hood fell back little by little. Inky black hair escaped the way it was tied up in loose curls at the back of Lena’s head. Obsidian tendrils fell down her back and Kara’s breath caught. Painting the glossy sheen of such dark hair was a challenge Kara was eager to start.

Kara followed a few feet behind as Lena seemed determined to stay ahead and ignore her as much as possible. Kara took the opportunity to study the slight curl of Lena’s hair, and the way the bright sun created a ring of white around the bun like a halo. 

The leaves crunched under their feet as Lena kept up her determined pace. Although Kara would have wanted to introduce herself at least, Lena didn’t even turn around to look at her. Not on the small trail through the forest, and not of the flat expanse of plains that led to the cliffs.

Kara kept her skirts pulled up around her ankles and her eyes trained on Lena’s dark hair. Studying. Memorizing. 

The ocean beyond the yellowed grass on the clifftop waved in large crashes, the wind strong enough to make Kara’s eyes water. 

Suddenly, Lena lifted her dark skirts a little higher and was running, barrelling straight forward across the flat plain and toward the edge. Kara gasped, lifted her skirts higher, and though her breaths came in aching, cold gasps, she pursued. The long stems of dying grass threatened to trip Kara, but she did not let up. Kara had seen enough people die, she wouldn’t let Lena be another. 

With barely six feet left from Lena’s feet to the edge of the cliff, Lena faltered to a stop, wobbling with the effort it took not to fall, and Kara doubled over in relief. 

Breathing heavy, Kara glared at the back of Lena’s head before Lena turned around, just as out of breath as Kara, with her midnight, flyaway hair rippling around her face in the wind. Her pale skin was tinged pink from the exertion, and she held a hand to her heaving chest. Her eyes, as blue-green as the ocean behind her, and every bit as fierce, trained on Kara. 

“I dream of this,” Lena huffed out. 

“Of _dying?”_ Kara squawked at her. 

“Of running.” Lena turned back to look out at the raging ocean as if she hadn’t almost plummeted to her death. If Alex was there, she might have considered pushing Lena over for making Kara panic like that. Kara took deep, calming breaths and shook away the adrenaline of chasing Lena. Lena looked back over her shoulder with a glare that threatened to topple Kara over just as much as the wind did. "I don't need or want a carer." 

Lena walked off again, leaving her hood down despite the bite of the wind. She kept several paces ahead of Kara, so Kara could only study her hair and the way the sun tinted it with reds and gold. Kara focused on the tight muscles of Lena’s neck or the way the sun made Lena’s pink ears glow when she turned her head at the right angle. 

Kara could not see anything beyond that. She wanted to study the curve of Lena’s sharp jawline, and the way her dark eyebrows had drawn together with a singular focus. Kara wanted to scrutinize the sharp cheekbones she had gotten a mere glimpse of, but most of all, Kara wanted to study Lena’s eyes and the way they were colored so uniquely that for once in her life Kara wasn’t sure she would be able to mix the paint to match. Every facet of Lena was prominent and strong. Kara had never been so impatient to paint someone, for Lena Luthor was made to draw envy even of the marble statues that other great artists had made, and Kara longed to capture the devastating beauty that Lena so carelessly exuded.

Kara decided to give Lena a day of peace. A day where Lena could just walk like Lillian had said she’d wanted to, but the next day, Kara resolved to get closer; to study Lena more. One day of peace, if not solitude, before Lena was married off to a man she had refused. Kara could give that at least. She owed Lena that much comfort.

As Lena walked along the cliffside, she would pause every so often to stare out into the open sea, or bend down and touch the wild yarrow and sea-spurry flowers. Grasshoppers leaped across the pathways and burrowed into the thick yellowed grass on either side. Kara’s hands and feet were cool, but her chest kept warm with her excitement to memorize Lena. Kara followed silently (which was hard for her to do) for a couple of hours until Lena led them both back up the path of crunchy leaves toward Luthor Manor. 

She couldn’t see much of Lena that first day, but she could study how Lena held herself. Her shoulders pulled back and her chin high, Lena walked with the sort of regal grace that only years of practice could create. Was it boarding school or Lillian who had instilled that in Lena?

Kara followed Lena up the stairs toward their rooms, but Lena turned around halfway up and Kara nearly bumped into her. She grasped the railing so she could steady her stumbling feet and then looked up at Lena, who looked back with the kind of practiced indifference that made Kara sad to think about. 

“Did you bring any books?” Lena asked. Kara gaped at her. Lena’s eyes were so bright with life, and so unlike Lillian’s, which were filled with malice. Lena was guarded, but she couldn’t hide the curiosity that lay just below the surface. Lena raised an eyebrow, prompting Kara out of her haze.

“What? Oh, yeah. I brought one book. _Pride and Prejudice_. Jane Austen,” she said. Her cheeks warmed as Lena continued to stare down at her from the higher step. 

“Will you let me borrow it?” 

Kara gulped and nodded. “Sure. I’ll go get it from my room for you.” 

Kara tried to keep calm as she passed Lena on the stairs, but Lena kept hot on her heels. Kara creaked the door open and she had to hold in a sigh of relief to see the curtain drawn, and then another one when Lena waited in the doorway. 

Kara felt those penetrating eyes on her as she rifled through her things to find the one book she’d brought. Its well-read spine was swollen from the ocean water, but the inside was still readable, despite the cover being completely ineligible. She handed it to Lena with a sheepish smile, and Lena grabbed it eagerly. She glanced between the damaged book and Kara before peering around the room again. Kara tried not to shuffle around or seem like she had something to feel guilty about, but she knew she was a terrible liar. Alex said so. 

“Your mom has a lot of books in her study,” Kara said.

“I’ve read them all,” Lena said, “it’s weird that you’re staying here.” Without waiting for a response from Kara, Lena turned on her heel and strolled down the short hallway and across to her own bedroom. Kara gaped after her, but Lena did not turn around. Lillian had hundreds of books in the study and from what Kara had seen, they were all related to science and medicine.

On the floor by the firelight in her room, Kara took out several sheets of blank parchment to practice drawing what she had been able to study of Lena. She charcoaled in a vague shape of Lena’s ear which she’d then scribbled out, the slope of Lena’s nose in profile, a rough shape of her hairline head-on, her jaw, her chin, her plump, red lips. Over and over again, Kara drew lips. The perfect pout of the bottom and the double arch of the top. They looked so soft. How was Kara going to portray their softness in a painting? Though no drawing of Lena’s face was complete, by the time Kara was done practicing, she had a slew of papers littered on the floor in front of her, a puzzle of Lena’s features that she had to learn how to put together from memory alone. 

Before their scheduled walk the following day, Kara tried to add a charcoal outline of Lena to the canvas she had painted the background on, but she couldn’t get a feel for the core. The basic shape of the dark lines was right, Kara knew, but the contours felt wrong somehow, and she kept fighting herself on wiping them away only to redraw them. 

Kara closed her eyes and imagined Lena on the cliffside, how it had felt to see her for that first time, both of them heaving for breath, but Kara couldn’t help feel that version of Lena wasn’t genuine. There was a piece of her missing or hidden, and Kara was reluctant to paint until she knew what that piece was.

She gave up and began to outline Lena’s body instead, but then Jess interrupted her as she had the day before. Once again, Kara had to quickly shrug out of her apron, don her coat and scarf, leaving Jess to clean up her paints. She felt a little guilty, but Lena couldn’t figure out that Kara was painting her. 

They followed a different path than the day before, and the winds were so icy, they bit at Kara’s ears, nose and fingers. Not even the fall butterflies braved the weather, and the sun peeked out between the heavy grey clouds with a rarity that left Kara longing for her home in National City. 

Lena had a midnight blue scarf tied around the lower half of her face and knotted around her hair; almost as if she knew Kara wanted to see what lay hidden beneath and was taunting her for it. How was she supposed to memorize Lena if Kara couldn’t even see her? Though Lena still kept ahead of Kara, she would glance back often, wary and calculating, like an animal who had narrowly avoided traps before and had learned to keep constant vigilance. 

Lena led them down the arduous, stony path that led to the beach, and it took them an hour’s hike to finally reach the sandy dunes below. The waves misted into the wind like rain, causing Kara some reprieve from the heat of her exertion.

Tired and hot from the hike, Lena knelt in the sand and threw the cape of her charcoal cloak off of her shoulders to let in some of the cool, sea air. Her hands folded in her lap as she watched the waves cascading onto the shore. Kara knelt in the sand next to her and tried to be subtle with her glances. By the suspicious glint in Lena’s keen eyes, Kara wasn’t entirely successful. 

“My mother drowned in the ocean,” Lena broke the silence between them after a few moments of listening to the waves and the call of the gulls. Kara snapped her head up at the proclamation, her scarf falling away with the motion of it. “It’s why you don’t hear of me as much as you did of Lex. Lillian was his mother, not mine, but now he’s gone and I’m the only thing that keeps Lillian from drowning in squalor, or so she puts it.” 

“And Lionel?” Kara asked. 

“My father.” Lena nodded. “I am the only Luthor heir now.” 

Kara frowned. She knew what it was to lose family, but she couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose a sibling, even if it was due to a hanging. And to then be offered up for marriage to keep wealthy? Kara couldn’t decide what was more inhumane: forced marriage or living in squalor. Lena interrupted her thoughts. 

“How long are you staying?” Her green eyes bore into Kara’s blue, resentful of needing Kara there, but expecting her departure and the cease of her daily outings. Lena was such an odd mix of guarded and completely open. 

Kara frowned again. “Six days, at least. Maybe more.” 

Lena sighed and looked back out into the ocean. Instead of the wonder most people looked at it with, Lena eyed it with trepidation, kind of like how she looked at Kara. 

“Do you know how to swim?” Kara asked. 

Lena pulled her scarf away from her face to reveal a scowl. “No.” 

“I could teach you if you’d like,” Kara offered. Lena glanced back at the waves. “On a calmer day.” 

Lena grumbled and got to her feet. Kara moved to follow but Lena’s heavy sigh had her lowering back to the ground. Lena pursed her lips and eyed Kara for a moment before she nodded and continued down the beach alone. She stayed in Kara’s line of sight, though. 

Kara pulled out scrap bits of paper and, glancing up often to make sure Lena was still far enough away, traced the contours of Lena’s large hands from memory. Lena’s nails were kept short, her fingers were longer and a little thicker than the average woman’s. Strong and hard, just like the rest of her seemed, though still left unmarred; a sign of her lack of manual labor. Steady hands, with fingertips chapped by the books Lena clung to like a vice. Now Kara’s book, too. 

Lena hid away in her room again once their walk was over, and Kara headed straight to the kitchen. Their trek had been much longer than the day prior, and she had no more sunlight left to try to paint Lena. 

Jess took pity on Kara’s sour mood and placed a steaming bowl of stew at the wooden table before her, along with more bread and wine. 

“How was she today?” Jess asked. “Any luck?” 

Kara groaned out her frustration. “She’s difficult. Secretive. She keeps ahead of me on the trail so I rarely see her face, and she wants to walk alone on the beach.” 

“No progress on the painting then?” 

“No,” Kara sighed and forked a lump of potato in the stew. “I haven’t even seen her smile once. _You_ smiled the first day I met you. She hardly even looks at me.” 

Jess coughed lightly to cover a laugh. “Give her something to smile about.” 

Kara snorted at the thought. She wouldn’t even know where to start, but Jess’s grin said that maybe that was the point. A joke. They chuckled at the idea together before Kara tucked into her food. Hopefully, Lena would open up more if Kara tried to become friends with her. Luckily for Kara, that was her specialty. Alex always said that Kara could make friends with anybody, and Lena seemed like someone Kara would have liked to have gotten to know outside of Lillian paying her for it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by me being a dumbass simp for Katie McGrath lmao she's so pretty


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara finishes the painting just as Lena starts to open up to her.

Lena was an odd person to spend time with. She was guarded, with a constant analysis of everything around her. She rarely spoke, but when she did, Kara wanted to listen, not only because it was rare, but because everything Lena said seemed of great importance. 

Such as the following day, where they once again trekked down to sit in the sand at the beach and Lena looked over to Kara, who had been studying Lena’s jawline, when Lena said, “Do you think my brother really wanted to kill all those people?” 

Kara gaped at her for a few moments. Kara had no idea if Lex wanted to kill the servants, but intent was irrelevant when the end result was death, and Lex was hanged either way.

“I don’t know,” Kara said, “does it make a difference in how much you’ll miss him?” 

Lena frowned and stared over at her. Though Kara wanted to duck her head and look away from the penetrating gaze, she needed to study the colorful hues of Lena’s different eyes, which scowled at Kara. 

“You think I miss him?” Lena scoffed. “He’s a criminal. He poisoned and killed twelve innocent servants while the masters of the house were away. He didn't even kill his intended target. You think I should miss someone like that?” 

“I think you’re allowed to grieve the brother you lost,” Kara said. Lena’s chin quivered only slightly before she looked down into the sand, poking at it with a twig she had found. 

“In his last letter, he wrote that I should expect big things. Next thing I knew, mother was parading the idea of marrying me around and selling to the highest bidder.” The twig in Lena’s hand snapped. Kara gulped. 

“Sounds awful when you put it that way,” Kara murmured as she studied the way Lena’s brow furrowed. Anger boiled just under the surface, though Lena hid it well, her eyes were alight with the rage.

“What do you know of my marriage?” Lena asked, her green eyes daring. 

“Just that your future husband is waiting for you in Metropolis.” Kara shrugged. 

Lena clenched her jaw and nodded. “So the same amount as me, then. You can see why I’m not thrilled at the idea.” 

“What else would you do?” Kara asked. 

Lena bit her bottom lip, her thick eyelashes layered over her cheeks as she looked down in thought, their dark contrast like branches against fresh snow. “I’d learn. Teach. Help. I’d sooner join a convent if I had any choice in the matter, at least there I might get some semblance of equality,” Lena rushed out. 

“I lived in a convent for a while. The nuns kept getting mad that I was drawing in the margins of their books, so I left.” Kara grinned at the memory. 

“You draw?” Lena asked. The suspicion in her voice was hardly noticeable. Her eyes held mostly curiosity. 

“Sometimes,” Kara said. It wasn’t technically a lie. She mostly painted.

Thankfully, Lena changed the topic. “Do you think you’ll ever get married?” 

Kara pursed her lips as she thought it over. She’d had suitors, of course. Winn, James, and Mike were all eligible enough, but she didn’t think she wanted to marry them. She always felt as though something was missing, as though something didn’t fit. With a sigh, she accepted that she’d likely never find a man willing to allow her to put her work before their marriage. “No, I don’t think so. I think I’d rather take over my cousin’s old business.” 

Lena hummed. “You get to choose. That’s why you can’t understand me.” 

“I understand you fine, Lena,” Kara said, starring back into Lena’s eyes just as imploringly as Lena gazed into hers. 

Lena still rarely spoke on their long walks together, but she didn’t stop Kara from talking about her life. She told Lena of her friends back in National City, and how she’d been adopted after her family had succumbed to influenza. She spoke of Eliza’s kindness and how Alex had taught her what it meant to be a sister. She spoke of every experience she could think of that Lena might not have been able to have, eliciting contemplative hums or nods from in response. 

Kara wanted to share with Lena anything that might console her in her fate, unable to warn her of its imminence. 

Lillian arrived back at Luthor Manor after a week, demanding to see Kara and ask about progress. She stood tall and imposing in her study, looking down her nose at Kara, who refused to back down from the gaze.

“Is my daughter giving you a difficult time?” Lillian asked. 

“A bit,” Kara admitted, though she didn’t want to cause any trouble for Lena. “We’re out most of the day, so I have little daylight to paint with.” 

“I’ll keep her busy tomorrow so you can paint, then,” Lillian said before she sat at her desk chair. Despite Lillian’s height diminishing, Kara felt small under the gaze. Still, she felt bad Lena had to be cooped up inside or escorted around like a child. Kara would be angry too. She wanted to help. 

“You could let her go out alone.” Lillian’s eyes snapped up at Kara’s suggestion, her mouth downturned. “It’s not like she can get off the island and… well, she’s not sad. She’s angry, I think. So you don’t have to worry about the uh, the cliffs.” Kara finished with a scratch to her nose. She wondered if Lillian had been worried about that at all, or if she simply liked to control Lena in every aspect of life, not just in her future marriage.

“She needs to learn to grow up and take responsibility. Whether we agree or not, it’s a woman’s duty to marry. Her anger is meaningless.” Lillian waved off. Kara ground her teeth. No emotions were meaningless or unimportant. It was no wonder Lena never talked. 

“I’m just guessing. She doesn’t talk much to me,” Kara backtracked a bit, trying to save Lena from whatever storm Lillian might rain down. 

“You should try to talk to her. She won’t listen to me, but perhaps she would a woman her own age. I’m not marrying her off like a pig for slaughter, despite what she believes. Our fortune can only take us so far, and without any men, we have no way of maintaining it. I’m trying to give her a better life than we will have here,” Lillian sighed as if Lena’s feelings were of great inconvenience to her. 

“And yourself a better life, too, even if Lena doesn’t want it?” Kara dared to point out. Lillian raised an eyebrow at her, but instead of impatient or curious, it was mean. 

“Why shouldn’t I aim for a better life for myself?” she asked, and then barrelled on as if Kara’s response was inconsequential to her. “I have friends where you’re from, Miss Danvers. You do this job well, and you’ll continue to grow, just as your cousin did. But fail to produce the agreed-upon piece, and all of National City will know of your failings. You’ll not be able to afford paper, let alone canvas, or medicine for your sister.” 

“I will finish this job,” Kara said as she stared down at Lillian with all the defiance she could muster (and according to Alex, that was a lot). Lillian smiled, but it faltered when Kara continued. “I’ll finish this job because I’m a professional, not because I’m under threat. My work will speak for itself, regardless of how you frame it.” 

Lillian stared at Kara for long, quiet moments, not even broken by a crackling fire from the hearth because Lillian had left it unlit. It seemed nothing about Lillian was warm. “We’ll see, Miss Danvers.” 

Lillian gestured flippantly toward the door, looking at the ledger on her desk. Kara stuck her tongue out in secret before she retreated to her room for the night. 

With renewed vigor, Kara chomped her way through a large breakfast of sausage and eggs (Jess eyed Kara as if she were a madman the whole time), and then Kara determined to paint Lena’s face as best she could. 

She got perfect porcelain strokes of Lena’s pale skin down on the canvas, using her sketches and memories as reference. She painted Lena’s hands and arms against the empty background, then her chest and the strong column of her neck. She tinged Lena’s cheeks a light flush of pink, like they were so often seen in the crisp afternoon wind.

Kara painted the perfect oval of Lena’s dark lips, the focused crease of her brow, but there was something missing in the eyes. No matter how Kara mixed and applied the paint, something in the eyes was wrong, and Kara couldn’t figure out what. It was Lena, of that there was no doubt, but it seemed like a muddled imitation of her; a pathetic rendering made by someone who had only seen her through foggy glass.

Portrait Lena’s curly hair was pulled back out of her face, cascading in waves around her ears and down her shoulders, fading into the rest of the blank canvas.

Kara sighed. She needed a reference point for the dress. She had to see how the material would flow and shine down a woman’s body before she could envision painting it. She grumbled, placed a cushioned stool in the middle of the room, and leaned a mirror up against the wall. 

Should she put on Lena’s expensive, heavy dress and look at herself posing in a mirror? Probably not, but Kara didn’t have many options. Kara’s shoulders were broader than Lena’s and she was taller, but Lena’s bust was bigger, so Kara left her dress on and simply slipped Lena’s loosely over top. It didn’t have to be perfect, it just had to be. 

She shimmied and tied the skirt strings before she sat on the stool, gazing at the way the material hung off of her. She placed her hands folded together in her lap, like Lena was posed in the painting, and gazed at her reflection, but it was wrong. 

Kara fluffed the skirt up, adjusted the bustles, and the small portions of white lace detailed around the low, square neckline, but no matter how she adjusted the garment, it was wrong. Everything in Kara’s mind screamed wrong, wrong, _wrong._

If the sudden knock at the door wasn’t enough to jolt Kara up and out of her seat (it was), then Lena’s voice on the other side calling Kara’s name certainly did the trick. 

“Um! Just a second!” Kara cried as she picked the hem of the skirt up and ran behind the dark curtain. She bumped into the wardrobe on her way, but other than a stubbed toe, she and the dress were both fine. 

The door creaked open as Kara wrenched the boustiér off before untying the skirts and flinging the entire dress onto her bed. She thanked God for the curtain between her and Lena, whose boot steps echoed off the floor in the large room. 

Kara walked out from behind the curtain and tried to act casual. 

Lena sat on the stool gazing at herself in the mirror in plain confusion. She was poised as she always was, positioned perfectly for a portrait, and Kara could do nothing about it when Lena got up. Lena lifted an eyebrow at Kara after glancing back at the mirror; as if to point out how odd the placement was, and Kara wasn’t sure how to explain. She remained quiet. 

“Did you bring any tobacco with you?” Lena asked.

“What? No, of course not!” Kara cried. Lena turned away from her, but Kara swore she saw the ghost of a smile. An almost smirk. 

“Just bringing back your book.” Lena held the object up as she plopped down on the fluffy, white couch Kara had uncovered on her first night. 

“I thought you were going to go out on your own today,” Kara said. “I tried to convince Lillian to let you-” 

She was cut off but an indignant snort. “Nobody can convince that woman of anything. She will let me go alone because she wants to, not because you said anything.” 

“But she is letting you go?” 

“Yes,” Lena said as she fluttered the pages of Kara’s book across her thumb. “I’m going into town.” 

“Oh, so you came here first because you’ll miss me.” Kara grinned as she sat next to Lena who ignored her in favor of studying _Pride and Prejudice,_ though she’d just finished reading it. “What’ll you get up to without me?” Kara asked. 

“Church,” Lena said. 

“Church?” Kara’s brows furrowed. Lena compared marriage to joining a convent. It didn’t make sense for her to go to church for fun. 

Lena rolled her eyes at Kara’s confusion. “I want to listen to the organ.” 

“Church organ music is boring, Lena. Everybody says so. It’s terribly dreadful.” 

“It’s all I know,” Lena said. “You’ve heard better?” 

Kara smirked at the clear challenge in Lena’s tone, waggled her eyebrows, and walked over to the wooden piano she’d found. “I can make better.” 

Lena’s eyes were wide and expectant, almost childlike as Kara approached the instrument. If Lena had only heard church organ music, then Kara was going to play the farthest thing she could think of from that. Something fast and exciting. 

She uncovered the piano and sat at the bench, plinking at the keys and adjusting herself to the size and style of it. Lena crept over as Kara rolled her shoulders, peering down at Kara’s fingers. 

“Do you really know how to play?” Lena asked as she sat next to Kara on the bench. The materials of their skirts bunched together and their shoulders rubbed, though Lena was careful not to jostle Kara. The heat of Lena’s body radiated through Kara’s clothes. She blushed and cleared her throat.

“Of course I do! I said so, didn’t I?” Kara grinned at Lena’s skepticism and she began to play “Summer” by Vivaldi, explaining to Lena each of the separate parts and the quick-tempoed segments of the story as she fingered the keys. As Kara played, Lena’s lips upturned slightly, Kara paused at the sight of dimples but quickly looked back to the keys, figuring her cheeks were warm because she never played in front of Lena before. 

It wasn’t quite in tune, but it was still fun, and especially worth it when Kara messed up and Lena full-on smiled at her. 

Kara tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered. Breath from Lena’s open-mouthed smile caressed Kara’s neck and sent shivers down her spine. She tried to ignore that too, along with the way Lena kept glancing between Kara’s face to her fingers, which were progressively getting worse at plucking the keys.

Lena’s gaze burned the back of Kara’s neck as she tried to remember, but she couldn’t think under Lena’s eyes. “I… I forget the rest. You’ll hear the rest when you’re in Metropolis. It’s the city known for music.” 

Lena’s dimples faded fast, her grin replaced with a frown. “Can’t wait.”

“There’ll be good things in Metropolis, is all I’m saying. Music and food and friends,” Kara said. Lena quirked her eyebrow at the last word with a roll of her eyes

“I have no interest in consolation prizes.” Lena stood from the bench, eyes downtrodden but chin held high as she left the room. Lena didn’t slam the door on the way out, but it wasn’t exactly gentle. Kara groaned and plonked her head down, causing the piano to complain along with her. She had just wanted Lena to feel some excitement toward her future, but she sighed as she realized that hope wasn’t hers to offer. Not to Lena. Not when Kara was the one sealing her fate.

“You alright, Kara?” Kara’s head snapped up to find Jess peeking in through the door, ever helpful. Kara shot up from the piano bench with the burst of an idea.

“Hey! Are you busy? I need a favor.” Kara said. Jess frowned at her. “Come on, it’s nothing bad. I’ll do something nice for you after.” 

Jess sighed and entered the room, closing the door behind her. “You already do nice things, Kara, like pick wildflowers for the kitchens and cut wood.” 

“Ah, that’s nothing,” Kara waved off. “Now, I need you to put on Lena’s dress.” 

Jess stared back and Kara wiggled her eyebrows until Jess’ shoulders slumped in defeat. “Where is it?” 

“My bed! Thank you. I’m having a terrible time painting it without a reference,” Kara admitted as she got up to pull the curtain back. She turned the canvas so Jess wouldn’t see her progress. She wasn’t ashamed of her work, but she felt odd having only painted Lena’s arms and head. There wasn’t any nudity, just an absence where the dress would be, but the way Lena’s strong jaw led to her neck and the way Lena’s chest faded into nothing seemed too intimate to share. 

Jess came out from behind the curtain, slightly drowning in Lena’s dress due to her small stature, and glowered at Kara. 

“Lovely,” Kara said, “if you wouldn’t mind sitting on the stool?” 

Jess huffed but did as asked. Kara beamed at her as she adjusted the skirts. 

“I look ridiculous,” Jess said. 

Kara opened her mouth to oppose, but quickly shut it again and then laughed when Jess glared at her. “I appreciate you posing for me.” 

With Jess in the dress posing, it was much easier to catch the way the light reflected off of the silky material. Kara got lost in painting the emerald onto the canvass, thinking about how lovely the deep green would look against Lena’s moonlight skin. Before long, Jess had run off to let Lillian know the painting was finished while Lena was still in town.

Lena stayed away for most of the night but came barging in again just after Kara had finished up the painting. Kara had to hide her hands behind her back to cover the green smears of paint dried there. She walked around the curtain to find Lena chewing at her bottom lip and playing with her fingers. Kara had never seen her nervous before. 

“Lena, hi. H-how was church?” Kara stammered. The painting was done. There was no reason to hide it from Lena any longer, but Kara didn’t want her to see. Not yet. Not ever, really.

“Nice. I sang a lot. I’m horrible at it.” Lena’s grin made Kara swallow at the lump in her throat. Lena’s smile was quick to disappear (Kara wondered if all Lena’s smiles were). “Mother says you’ll be leaving tomorrow. That’s earlier than you said.” 

“Yeah, sorry. My sister’s sick. She needs me home soon,” Kara said and then clenched her jaw. Lena didn’t need to know that. Having a sick sister wouldn’t make Kara betraying Lena’s trust any easier for Lena to deal with. 

“Will you have time to walk with me before you go?” Lena asked. Unexpectant, as if she had already accepted the worst. 

“Yes,” Kara said. “Yeah, of course.” 

“I’m sorry I got upset with you earlier.” Lena’s polite smile was like the twist of a dull knife in Kara’s gut. “I’ll admit I was surprised by how much I felt your absence today.”

“I-I’ll walk with you. Tomorrow. I’ll walk with you before I go,” Kara tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure it reached her eyes. Lena nodded before she left Kara for the night, alone and cleaning her brushes, wondering how much Lena would hate her by the end of their walk. 

Kara stumbled over to the washbasin but for however green the paint was, it sure felt as if Kara were washing blood off of her hands. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena finds out Kara's secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say thanks to the people who seem to be enjoying this fic. It's entirely self-indulgent, flowery, angst-ridden, self-inflicting pain, but who am I to complain about others enjoying my suffering?   
> It makes me happy that y'all like it.

Kara knocked on Lillian’s office door, stifling a groan as she was beckoned in. 

“Jessica tells me you’ve finished the painting,” Lillian said from her seat at her desk without looking up from her work. 

“I did.” Kara nodded. 

“Are you satisfied?” Lillian asked. Kara shuffled from foot to foot. She’d never felt further from satisfied. Part of her wanted to give the first half of the money back, but she’d already sent it off to Alex for the medicine. Part of her knew she wouldn’t be able to give it back even if she did still have it. 

“It’s done,” Kara said instead of answering. Lillian stood from her desk and gestured for Kara to lead the way, but Kara didn’t move. “I’d like to show it to her if you don’t mind. Tomorrow, after we go on a walk. I’d like to tell her myself that I painted her behind her back.” 

Lillian raised an eyebrow before lowering back into her desk chair. Her smirk made Kara’s skin crawl, but Kara pretended to be unaffected. “Fine. But you should know that I won’t pay you extra if she damages you.” 

Kara clenched her jaw as she considered Lillian. She nodded and left the office alone. 

Not even the warmth of the hearth in her room could make Kara feel better, nor the wine Jess brought up to her. She wondered if Lena would ask for wine to make herself tired too. There was still so much Kara didn’t know about her. Kara still hadn’t figured out why the painting felt wrong, or who Lena really was, or what Lena liked and hated, or what her favorite food was, or if she liked the spring or fall better. The ache in Kara’s chest at never knowing these things was far greater than the loss felt from losing someone she’d known for only a week. 

Was she allowed to grieve for what might have been? 

She would.

To distract herself, Kara pulled out the unfinished portrait that the artist before her had left behind. She brought a candlestick close to the canvas to study the brushstrokes, the shading, and the contours he’d created. 

The dress was too frilly, and pine-coloured instead of emerald, and he’d painted Lena’s skin a sickly pallid color instead of the soft porcelain glow that it was. He’d gotten Lena’s hands wrong too. He’d painted them much too small, much too delicate. Lena’s hands were strong and sure, like Lena herself, not like the hands in the portrait which were so dainty and frail they looked as though they would break if they were held. 

Kara brought the candle up to criticize the too frilly detailing along the ridges of the dress, but there, above where Lena’s heart would be, the portrait caught fire. It grew quickly over the oil painting, spreading from Lena’s chest. 

Kara couldn’t help but make some sort of metaphor out of it, and she allowed the flames to spread across the canvas before tossing it into the hearth, wishing she could throw her own portrait of Lena into the fireplace along with it so that Lena’s fate may also burn, charred and lifted away in ashes; as if it had never existed at all. 

Lena let Kara lead the way across the plains of Thorul and down the mossy slope of rocks that led to their favorite spot at the shore. Kara wasn’t sure why Lena let her go first, but the eyes she felt boring into the back of her head did nothing to ease the tension in her stomach. 

The calm of the winds contrasted with Kara’s inner turmoil. The sun’s brightness mocked Kara as they sat together, its rays bringing no warmth to the day. Lena read Jane Austen again while Kara chewed her bottom lip and wondered about the best way to tell Lena. 

“The characters here,” Lena said as she lifted the book. “Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. They stand to lose everything by being together. There’s little for him to gain from the union, and yet…” 

“He loves her,” Kara murmured. Lena’s eyes snapped up to Kara’s before shooting back down to the book. 

“I can see why she dislikes him at the beginning of the book,” Lena said. “He’s quite rude.” 

“He’s guarded, maybe. To protect himself, he’s… affrontive. I wouldn't hold it against him once I understood. Sometimes people have immeasurable kindness underneath,” Kara said, blushing when Lena smiled over at her. 

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Lena lifted a brow, making Kara’s cheeks heat up more under the smirking gaze. 

“I might be.” 

Lena shook her head, failing to smother her grin. “There’s little in the way of practicality in this book.” 

“I believe the point is that love is  _ not  _ practical, and is not bound by class, or social rules, or expectation. It’s beyond pride and prejudice,” Kara argued. 

“How very idealistic of you, Miss Danvers,”

“Maybe so, but there’s one thing I know with absolute certainty,” Kara grinned. 

“What’s that?” 

“Fitzwilliam is a ridiculous name,” Kara said, and Lena threw her head back in a laugh so unexpected, that it surprised them both. Lena froze for a moment, smiled at Kara with pink cheeks before shaking her head and turning to the book. 

Lena seemed so at ease, so happy just to be sitting on the beach, reading a second-hand book so old Kara couldn’t even remember where she’d gotten it. It was so little a thing, the ability to read on the beach.

And Kara had to ruin that small pleasure.

Lena deserved the truth, even if it made her hate Kara. 

“Lena?” Kara murmured. Lena hummed in response but continued to read. Kara tried again in a stronger tone. “I have to tell you something.” 

Lena’s head shot up as she snapped the book closed, and her blue-green eyes bore into Kara’s with single-minded focus. Kara’s fingers tangled into the apron of her dress, Lena’s eyes flicking to the movement before studying Kara’s face. 

Kara hesitated just for a moment. It might be the last time she ever saw those eyes without disdain in them, and Kara didn’t want to waste her last chance to memorize them. She stared at Lena for the duration of three deep breaths before she found her nerve. 

“I’m a painter,” Kara admitted with all the bravery and calm she could muster. “Your mother hired me to paint you, and… I’ve finished your portrait.” Kara’s voice cracked on the last word, but she got it out and clamped her mouth shut, heart hammering in her chest. 

Lena’s jaw clenched. She looked down at her white-knuckle grip on Kara’s book. “That explains why you spoke so highly of Metropolis. You feel guilty.” Lena tossed  _ Pride and Prejudice _ into the sand between them. “You did this for your sick sister?” 

Kara nodded. Lena gnashed her teeth together, staring out into the ocean, anger radiating from her like the waves that spread across the rocky sand. “You’re leaving today?” 

“Yes.” Kara nodded. “With Lillian.” 

“I’m going to swim, then, while I can,” Lena said. “Stay here.”

She got up without waiting for a response, creating footprints across the sand as she approached the soft waves. 

For the first few days, Kara had trouble seeing Lena at all, but on the last, Lena untied her blue boustiér and all the bustles of her matching skirts, pulling back each layer and abandoning them in the sand until she was left in nothing but her clean, white shift. 

Lena approached the ocean with tentative slowness. The same way she approached everything else, but no matter how the waves pushed her legs back, or how cold the water was, she kept going up until her waist. She ducked under the water and for one split second, Kara worried that Lena would not resurface. 

But she did. 

Lena clambered out of the ocean, the white shift made see-through from the water and clinging to Lena's curves. Kara gasped and averted her gaze as Lena ambled back to the pile of discarded clothing, sure her face would never stop being red again. 

Kara bit her lip and waited for Lena to redress. She plopped back down next to Kara, the sand caked to her feet and clinging to her navy blue dress, shivering so hard that Kara wanted to wrap her in a hug. 

She didn’t. 

She didn’t have the right. 

“It’s cold today,” Kara said, “Why would you try to swim today?” 

Lena ignored her for half a minute, tilted her head to the side, and frowned. Water droplets built up on the ends of Lena’s hair before they slid down the side of her throat and disappeared into the material of her bodice. “It might be my only chance. I’d rather not waste it, even if it is cold.”

It felt to Kara as if there was some deeper meaning Lena was trying to convey, but if there was, Kara didn’t understand it. 

Lena still shivered so hard her teeth chattered. Kara asked, “Want to go back?” 

“Not yet,” Lena said. “It explains all your looks. You being a painter is the only reasonable explanation for you staring at me like that.” 

“Like what?” Kara whispered though she knew the answer. It was easier to pretend that she didn’t. Lena didn’t elaborate and for that, Kara was glad. Even more so when Lena kept glowering out toward the ocean so that she couldn’t see the way Kara’s ears and cheeks had no doubt remained redder than ever. 

Lena’s glower at the ocean was nothing in comparison to the way she glared at the portrait of herself. She analyzed it up close (Kara worried that Lena might try to destroy it, but she didn’t care. Alex had the money for the medicine and if Lena destroyed the portrait, well, then Kara would just have to stay and paint another), but Lena kept her hands clasped together behind her back as she leaned in to scrutinize it. 

Lena stared at it for a long while, studied every brushstroke Kara had made. 

“Do… you hate it?” Kara asked. Lena sent her a look. “It’s just that people normally say something at this point.” 

“That’s supposed to be me?” Lena pointed to the portrait. 

Kara took it as permission to step beside Lena and gaze at it with her. Portrait Lena was serious. She looked like she was sizing the onlooker up, fully aware that they would fall somewhere beneath her. Portrait Lena was a pale imitation of the real woman. She looked almost like Lillian. 

“That’s how you see me?” Lena asked. 

Kara bit her lip and looked at Lena. Her soft hair, and eyes that could be fierce, yes, but also so free, so curious. Kara hadn’t depicted the Lena that she had come to see; the one who liked to read and sing horribly, and listen to Kara play terrible piano. Kara had painted the version of Lena that Lillian had wanted, not the Lena that was. 

Lena seemed under the same impression. Kara glanced between Lena and the portrait as if comparing the two. “It's how you’re expected to be painted.” 

“Expected,” Lena scoffed and turned from Kara to glare at herself. “You made me look… dull. Lifeless. Like my mother.” 

Kara clenched her jaw but nodded. It was true; those were the customs. “I’m not sure I could paint the way I see you with all the pigment and oil in the world.” 

Lena’s nostrils flared with the breath she heaved. Her voice cracked as she whispered to Kara. “Would you even try?”

“You never said you were an art critic,” Kara mumbled. Lena turned back to her, trying to hide her emotions like always but failing miserably. Her chin quivered, and though her voice was strong, there were tears in her eyes. “And you never said that you were a painter.”

Lena stomped across the floor. 

“I’ll go get my mother for you,” she said, and she very much did slam the door that time.

Kara took a shuddering breath trying to keep her tears at bay. Neither of the Luthors needed to see her cry. It was over and done with, and there was nothing to be done about it. 

Kara clenched the rag in her hands to try to relieve her stress, but it didn’t help. Nothing could help. She found herself in an impossible situation painting Lena without her knowledge. At the time, Alex’s life had been on the line. At least that part was over. The whole thing was over.

Except it wasn’t because Kara couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Lena to a life saddled next to a man she’d never met, in a city she didn’t want to visit, tied to a poor excuse of a mother who didn’t care about how Lena felt. 

Before she had any conscious effort, Kara pressed the rag in her hand up against the face of Lena in the portrait; the one who looked so unlike the real thing. She grumbled as she scrubbed at it, telling herself she smeared it away because the light in Lena’s face wasn’t right. The glint in her eyes was wrong. Kara could do better. That’s why she did it, not to stay, but because she could do better. 

That’s what she told herself. 

She tossed the rag on the floor just as the door cracked open behind her. She did not turn around to look at Lillian or Lena as they passed by her to check the painting. 

Lillian stood staring at it in silence for what felt like an eternity before she turned on her heel and glared at Kara with such ferocity that Kara worried she might spontaneously combust. 

Lena approached the painting with a careful step, turning on her heel exactly as Lillian had, but her singular raised eyebrow was much less threatening, much more curious; as Lena usually was. 

Lillian wordlessly approached Kara, looming over her, but Kara didn’t back away. She held her ground and stared right back. “It wasn’t good enough. Even an amateur could see it. I’ll do it again. I’ll do it better,” Kara said. 

“You’re incompetent," Lillian said, voice so ice-like that Kara had to stifle a shiver. "I’ll be certain to tell every art dealer I know of that fact. Perhaps you should think about the consequences of your actions the next time you try to cross me, or your sister’s medicine will be the very least of your worries, Miss Danvers. You’re fired.” 

Kara gaped at Lillian, flashes of Alex and everything Alex had ever done for her in her head. She had saved Alex, and they would live to fight another day, just without the second half of payment. They would have to keep struggling, and Kara wasn’t sure how long it would take for one or both of them to fall ill again. Kara’s thoughts didn’t spiral for long. 

Lillian raised her hand as if to strike Kara, but Lena’s voice cut through.

“She’ll stay, mother. I’ll pose for her,” Lena said with all the calm and gentleness that it had taken Kara so long to uncover. She was still guarded in front of her mother, but Kara knew Lena always had to be, which only made her feel worse. 

Lillian looked from Kara to Lena, scrutinizing her daughter before nodding once.

“Your bleeding heart has always been your own downfall.” Lillian strode out of the room without another word, which in Kara’s opinion, was much more ominous than anything she could have said. 

The silence Lillian left them in was cutting, and Kara wasn’t sure how to begin to fill it. 

“Why did you ruin it?” Lena whispered, looking from the ruin portrait and into Kara's eyes. 

“You were right. You looked like Lillian.” 

“What difference does it make?”

“You’re not- you’re better than- ugh-” Kara pulled at the collar of her dress and shimmied her shoulders to try to dispel some of her discomforts. “She’s just too ugly a person, Lena. I couldn’t put a painting of you out into the world where you looked so much like her.” 

They stared at each other for long moments, Kara breathing hard in her nerves, while the slow upturn of Lena’s lips spread into a smile, and then an all-out laugh that echoed around the room. 

Kara failed at stifling her own confused laughter, and soon the front door slammed so hard it echoed through the whole house. They both scurried over to the window in time to see Lillian stomping down the path that led to the boats, which made them laugh even harder. 

By the time Jess found them, Kara was doubled over with her hands on her stomach and Lena was wiping tears from her eyes. 

“Uh,” Jess said, “Mrs. Luthor has a business trip to go on. She said she’d be back in a couple of weeks.” 

Jess slowly backed out of the room when that statement caused Kara and Lena to bowl over again, but Kara didn’t miss the amused look on Jess’s face. 

Kara placed the large, cushioned stool between two of the large bay windows in her room while Lena changed into her emerald gown.

Kara had expected Lena to look devastating in the dress, and she did, but much like the dress itself, the closer Kara got, the more uncomfortable Lena looked. 

Lena had pulled her dark hair away from her face, flaunting her angular jaw and her collarbones on display, but it looked like Lena could hardly move under the firmness of the dress’ thick and heavy material. 

Kara offered Lena a hand down to the stool. Lena raised an eyebrow but accepted the gesture before she sat primly down, smoothing out her skirts as she did so. 

Kara blushed, she knew she did, but Lena said nothing. She only looked to Kara for directions (which were very awkward to give).

“Uh, turn your chest toward me,” Kara said as she stood close to Lena at a diagonal. “Good. Turn your head-” Kara held a hand out to show Lena where she should look, but Lena couldn’t get the angle quite right on her own. Kara reached up tentatively, her hand shaking as she reached up to guide Lena’s chin into the proper position. Lena looked up at Kara with such resignation that Kara felt its weight in her own stomach. Kara tried to keep her voice from wavering as she dropped her hand away “-great. Clasp your hands together.” 

Lena folded her hands in her lap, but it was off. It was more of that twisty, nervous fidgeting that Lena did when she was anxious. 

“Not like that,” Kara said and gestured to Lena’s hands. “May I?” 

At Lena’s nod, Kara gently moved Lena’s hands so they were loosely layered together, instead of clasped. Kara pretended she didn't feel how Lena's calloused fingers rubbed across Kara's skin. “Okay, Perfect.” 

Kara flushed again and moved behind Lena to busy herself with adjusting the emerald skirts. 

“Comfy?” she asked and Lena nodded. 

She walked to her canvas and easel without another glance. 

“Okay,” Kara said. “Look at me.” 

And Lena did. Her gaze locked Kara in place for a moment, and Kara's lips parted at the vision before her, but she shook the thought away. She had work to do. 

She picked up the charcoal and started from the very beginning. 

The only sound was the gentle scrape of charcoal across a fresh canvas, all soft curves and bold strokes that stained Kara’s fingers black. The silhouette. The core of painting. Kara liked to take her time understanding it. She tried to understand the woman who posed for her. Kara wasn’t sure if she should, or if she was allowed, but for the first time, Kara allowed herself to look at Lena without shame and without secrets, and her heart fluttered when she did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> full disclosure: I am a pretentious disaster of a human being, and though I've read several quotes from Pride and Prejudice, I've never read the book itself. I would like to, though.   
> Anyway, this story is set in 1760, and the novel came out in 1813. I am aware of this. Let's all pretend I did better research before deciding to include a book I've never even read in this fic.   
> Like I said, pretentious disaster. 
> 
> I've got everything outlined, and am just finishing up the final chapter of this, so I'll be back on a regular posting schedule for this. I just need to clean the chapters up a bit before posting them, but it's all pretty much done.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara struggles to paint and learns a lot about Lena.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is done today so I'm posting it a day early.

Lena didn’t forgive Kara, not at first. Kara could feel it in the purposeful distance Lena kept between them; as if getting too close to Kara might burn her. But Lena still asked Kara to accompany her on walks where they would pick wildflowers together for Jess to keep in the kitchen. Lena would still pose for Kara every day, even if Kara’s progress was slow, and Lena even started to join Kara and Jess for their evening meals. 

It was nice, if a little unexpected and silent. Lena carried Kara’s book around with her everywhere (Kara wasn’t sure when Lena had borrowed it again) but their new routine worked. 

Lena still surprised Kara with big, out of the blue questions that Kara usually didn’t know how to answer, but Lena seemed pleased with nonetheless. 

After a long day of wandering around the island before the rain fell from the dark clouds, they sat huddled together around the small flame of a candle at the wooden kitchen table. Wind rattled the windows in their frames and thunder rolled through Kara’s chest. Storms seemed much closer on an island compared to the city. 

They’d eaten dinner, Kara was full for once, but instead of retreating to her room, Lena stayed. 

She frowned down at the pages of Kara’s book, glancing at Kara every so often, who was content to sit and watch her read. 

“Have you been in love before?” Lena asked. Kara froze again. Most of Lena’s questions made Kara’s brain still for a few moments, but how was Kara supposed to answer that? Lena’s eyes were soft, the way Kara liked them best. Her eyelashes, a stark contrast to the bright eyes and pale skin, even in the dim glow of the candle. 

Kara had lied enough. 

“Yes,” Kara said. “I think so.” 

Lena looked back at the book. “What’s it like?” 

It was like giving. It was a beautiful sacrifice. It was yearning almost tangible. It was an imperfect desire to do right for someone and be there for them in a way that left Kara breathless, but she didn’t know how to explain any of it, let alone to Lena. Instead, she said, “I… it’s hard to say.” 

“How does it feel?” Lena asked, and once again, Kara was helpless under her imploring gaze. How could Kara not answer when Lena was staring at her like that? So open and earnest. Hopeful, and Kara gasped slightly because hope felt a lot like love, and it seemed they both had hope in spades. 

Kara smiled softly at her, so sure that Lena must know. 

But instead of an answer when Kara opened her mouth to speak, the creak of the kitchen door echoed around the room. 

“The storm is getting worse. Best we all bunker down together. It’s easier to keep a fire going in one room on drafty days like this,” Jess said as she bustled about in search of wicks and candles. 

Kara didn’t know what to say to that, and as evidence would have it, neither did Lena. They both gaped at Jess as if she had a second head, but Kara couldn’t say  _ no;  _ that would make it awkward. 

The three of them hunkered down in Kara’s room, but Kara paced around anxiously, trying to come up with a plan where she didn’t have to share a bed with Lena. And Jess. 

Jess was quick to go to sleep, and Lena followed not long after, both lying on Kara’s large bed by the fire. The clouds outside were too thick to let any moonlight shine through them, and droplets of rain shone on the windows from the fire’s orange glow.

Kara waited by the windows for a long while, watching the droplets merge and race to the bottom, sure that Lena was faking sleep to get out of their situation, but after a while, Kara crept over to check on them. 

Lena slept on her side, both hands tucked beneath her chin, and her face more relaxed than Kara had ever seen it. Her hair had fallen out of its bun and spilled onto the pillow behind her. 

Kara never wanted to sketch anybody more than she wanted to sketch Lena at that moment. Kara would be gone soon, and so would Lena, but Kara didn’t want to forget her. She didn’t want to forget a single moment.

She grabbed her sketchbook and charcoal off of the windowsill before sitting down in front of Lena’s stomach, careful not to jostle her tucked up knees. 

Lena drooled a bit on the pillow. Kara stifled a breathy laugh. She liked that part of Lena too. She liked every part.

For a time, the only sounds were the rain pattering against the windows, the crackling of the hearth, and the scratches of charcoal against the paper as Kara detailed Lena’s peaceful, unguarded slumber. 

Alex used to complain that Kara’s drawing would wake her up at night, but it had been so long that Kara had forgotten not everyone was used to the sound. She froze when she looked back for her next reference. Lena’s eyes were open and glancing up at her, still soft, still sleepy. 

Kara bit her lip, nervous that Lena might get mad at her, but Lena rolled over onto her back, into an even more open position with her hands splayed loosely around her dark halo of hair. 

Kara’s breath hitched and Lena smirked at her. She said nothing, just watched Kara draw her. Eventually, when Kara looked up, Lena was sleeping once more. Warmth spread through Kara’s chest and throughout her body, and it had little to do with the fire. 

Kara sighed and put her things back on the windowsill. She was what Alex called a ‘serial cuddler’, clinging to anybody who shared a bed with her like a burr to cotton, and elected to take a blanket from the pile Lena had kicked down around her ankles. She made herself a little bed on the floor near the hearth, falling asleep to the thought of Lena’s dimples. 

No matter how often Kara thought of those dimples, or how wonderful Lena’s smile was, Kara couldn’t get it right on the canvas. 

It was infuriating. 

“You’re angry,” Lena said from her usual pose on the stool. 

“I can’t get you to smile,” Kara whined. “In the painting, I mean.” 

“The Luthors are an angry family.” 

“I don’t think you are,” Kara said. She put her free hand on her hip to talk to Lena. “Not in the same way.” 

“You hardly know me,” Lena scoffed. 

“I know you, Lena,” Kara said. She’d been studying Lena for weeks now, knew her habits, what she liked. What she didn’t. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

Lena tilted her chin up further, the corners of her mouth pulling down. “You haven’t hurt me.” 

“Yes, I did. I can tell because I know you. You clench your jaw when you’re angry,” Kara explained. Lena shook her head, so Kara continued. “And when you’re embarrassed, you pretend to be reading my book even though you know the words better than I do at this point, and when you’re annoyed like you are right now, you lift your eyebrow. I know you, Lena Luthor. You’re not an angry person.” 

“Must be nice to know everything,” Lena said. Kara wasn’t sure what she’d said wrong, but she’d obviously said something to make Lena’s voice sound so rough. Low and gravelly, like the rocks along the shore. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Stop apologizing. You painted me to save your sister, I can accept that. I’m not stupid. The old painter left and you show up a week later? I wasn’t so naive to think my mother would love me enough to pay for someone to walk with me. She doesn’t care about my happiness that much, or at all. Do you think I had no inclination as to why you were here? Just because you’ve been studying me, don’t for a second think you’re the all-knowing expert on me,” Lena argued. “From my perspective, we’re in exactly the same place. Come here.” 

“Huh?” Kara squeaked.

“Come here-” Lena jutted her chin down to the floor at her feet before glaring back up at Kara “-Let me show you what I mean.” 

Kara gulped. She wasn’t sure what to expect so she took her time wiping her hands on her cloth and meandering over to Lena. 

“Closer,” Lena said when Kara was only a pace away, and she took a deep breath before she stepped so close into Lena’s personal space that she could feel the heat radiating off of Lena’s body. The bustles of Kara’s red skirts pressed into Lena’s green gown, and Kara was struck with the image of a forest ablaze. Kara winced. Was she a wildfire? She couldn’t get it out of her head that yes, she was destroying Lena, one brushstroke at a time. 

“Look.” Lena gestured to the easel, and when Kara followed her line of sight, Lena leaned over to murmur in her ear. “Who do you think I’ve been studying?” 

Kara gasped, though she tried to stifle it, and tilted her face down so Lena wouldn’t see her cheeks burn. 

“When you’re nervous, you look down because you think I won’t notice your blush-” Lena smirked when Kara snapped her head up to look at Lena “-but I always do. And when you’re thinking too hard, you get a crinkle between your eyebrows. And when you’re troubled, like you are right now, you bite your lip.” Lena’s eyes flickered down to where Kara’s bottom lip was tugged between her teeth. Kara’s breathing hitched as Lena continued to stare at her mouth and slowly, Kara let her eyes fall to the soft pink of Lena’s lips. 

Kara had drawn those lips over and over, so many times she may as well know them as her own. They felt like a dare. Everything about Lena felt like a dare. 

Kara looked to the floor and quickly walked back over to the safety behind her easel, trying not to bite her lip on the way there. 

Despite the canvas and the distance between them, Kara had never felt so bare. 

They played chess after the sun had set too low for Kara to paint. Or, Lena played chess and Kara lost repeatedly while Jess laughed at her. 

_ Traitor.  _

Lena’s scowl when Kara taunted her was almost as endearing as Lena’s smile was after she’d won another round. Sometimes Jess would sit on Kara’s side and they would try to take Lena down together, but Lena was too smart. It was nice to know that Jess would be following Lena to Metropolis, though. At least they got along. At least Lena would have someone, even if it could never be Kara.

Their days bled together like the colors of Kara’s paint, and it seemed Lena had taken a new liking to making Kara blush as often as possible. 

“Do you ever paint nude models?” 

Kara sputtered at the question and had to pull her paintbrush away from the canvas so as not to ruin it. She knew her cheeks were pink, she could feel it, and even if she couldn’t, Lena’s grin was telling. Kara huffed and tried to even the score. “Only women.” 

“Never men?” Lena asked. “Why not?” 

“It’s not allowed. Women can’t paint male models, just like women couldn’t read a hundred years ago, or how we used to have to wear hats to go outside. It’s mostly to keep women from creating great art, to keep us from showing the men we’re every bit as good and talented as they are and, in some cases, even better.” 

Yeah,” Lena whispered at the end of Kara’s rant, her eyes soft again. “Sometimes even better.” 

Kara’s heart stuttered, so she breathed deeper, trying to ignore it. 

“That doesn’t stop me, though. I’ll paint anybody who’ll let me, female or otherwise. It’s tolerated if it’s done out of view,” Kara explained. Lena’s proud little smirk was all the reward Kara needed. 

“What do you tell them? Your models?” 

“Why? Are you bored?” Kara pouted. Lena chuckled at her.

“Never when you’re around,” Lena said. Kara couldn’t fight the blush, but she didn’t look down or away, which only made Lena’s smile widen. 

Kara took a deep breath to steel her nerves. If she only got one chance to tell Lena how she felt, even in such a small way, she would take it. She cleared her throat before looking back at the canvas, focusing on her gentle strokes of Lena’s dark hair as she spoke. “Your skin shines like the light of a full moon. Your eyes are like an ocean wave with the sun cascading through and you were an art piece long before you posed to be painted. I think you’re so-” Kara spoke lowly as she concentrated on her painting. She avoided Lena’s eye until the very last word “- _ beautiful.” _

Lena said nothing; she didn’t need to. The pink in her cheeks said everything for her. 

Lena had taken to reading aloud to Kara in the evenings while they drank wine by the hearth in the kitchen before they retired to their separate bedrooms. Though Kara had read  _ Pride and Prejudice  _ more times than she cared to count, she liked hearing it from Lena. Especially when Lena’s voice would get raspy and deep with tiredness, or when her cheeks coloured pink at the words. They stayed up late into the night, debating themes and choices of characters they both loved, arguing and laughing together, pretending Kara wasn’t leaving soon. Pretending they could be anything but temporary. 

Jess had some friends on Thorul island that had invited the three of them to a bonfire and some sort of celebration. 

“They do it every year to celebrate the change in the name of the island,” Lena explained as they walked through the fields together. The sky was dark, illuminated by the bright moon and puffy clouds. So many crickets chirped that they made one endless evening melody, broken by their footsteps and laughing in the distance. “My idiot brother started it. The men are on one side of the island, women on the other.” 

“Celebrate the change of the island’s name? It hasn’t always been Thorul?” Kara asked. 

Jess and Lena chuckled at her. 

“No, Lena said. “Lex decided to change it after our father died. If you rearrange the letters, it spells Luthor. He basically named the island after himself, because he liked to think himself a God.” 

“Lovely,” Kara quipped under her breath as they approached the large blaze in a clearing of trees. Kara stayed well away from the fire. Close enough to keep warm, but just enough. Lena plowed ahead, fearless as ever to stand close to the orange plumes, and walked around the fire to gaze through it at Kara. Lena stood too close, much too close if anyone had asked Kara. Nobody did. 

Instead, the Thoral islanders harmonized, singing a song that Kara had never heard. It reminded Kara of the crickets, but the women drowned them out and Kara smiled as she gazed at Lena through the hazy heat of the fire. Lena looked like she was underwater the way she wavered, sparks flying around her like fireflies.

Lena’s beauty was devastating, and Kara thought it unfair of God, or whoever was out there, to make a human being so captivating. Lena was built to be painted. The sharp cut of her jaw, strong brow, clever, smirking lips; it was like Lena knew she was a work of art, and also knew it would inevitably destroy her. Kara was helpless, gazing at Lena through the smoke, glad for the fire between them so that Kara could not approach. 

No matter how she longed to.

Lena smiled at Kara and began to walk away from the fire and -Gosh, Kara _ knew _ Lena had stood too close. 

The hem of Lena’s dress had caught on fire. Despite how jarring it was to see Lena ablaze, the fire looked like it belonged to her; looked a part of her. It looked like Lena was perhaps a little wild, a lot fierce, with every bit of illuminating brilliance as the flames themselves. 

It seemed fitting, somehow.

It reminded Kara of when they first met; when Lena had run so suddenly towards the edge of the cliff, all adrenaline, and unknowns and such fleeting wonder, barreling toward danger head-on with no regard for anything except for how good it felt to run. The flames made Lena fleeting too, but Kara didn’t want Lena to be a small moment in time. 

Kara wanted Lena to exist forever.

Kara yanked her cloak off and ran toward Lena, throwing the garment over the flames at the bottom of her skirt to smother them, knocking both of them over in the process. They landed on the ground together in a jumbled heap, breathing hard and staring at each other as if seeing the other for the first time. 

Things changed again after that. 

They no longer walked on the trails separately the day after the bonfire They reached out to each other, no matter how many times they had maneuvered over the rough terrain separately before. They clasped hands to help each other over boulders and rocks so frequently, Kara almost felt like they didn’t let go at all. 

They stabilized themselves with each other’s bodies, both pretending to need help because they want to be close. Or at least Kara did. 

Lena led her to the stone tunnels she usually traveled alone, but instead of an explicit order to stay behind, Lena walked backward toward a cave and raised an eyebrow in challenge before she disappeared behind the stone, daring Kara to follow, and Kara was helpless to the pull. 

Kara took a few deep, cleansing breaths of the icy, sea salt air before she pursued. 

The wind whistled as it whipped around the jutting stones of the cave, the brightest thing in view was Lena’s eyes, wide and alive, staring at Kara with the same wonder Kara felt. 

Kara approached with tentative slowness, Lena’s heavy breathing echoed her own, and despite how Kara wasn’t sure if she should approach, her feet moved without thought until she stood in front of Lena, searching her eyes for the answer neither of them had; to a question Kara didn’t know how to ask. 

And then Lena pulled the muzzle of her thick scarf away from her mouth, and Kara couldn’t tear her eyes away from Lena’s lips. 

They were so close. So close. 

Lena shuddered out a breath that washed across Kara’s face, and leaned forward, pressing her lips against Kara’s trembling mouth. 

Kara froze in place. Lena’s lips were so soft, so gentle, and Kara’s hands shook at her sides, desperate to cling to Lena but not daring to as she began to kiss Lena back. Her mind went blank to the cold, to the waves, blank to everything that wasn’t the desperate press of Lena’s lips against hers. Kara’s nose traced along the curve of Lena’s before they pulled away from each other, panting for breath. 

Lena licked her lips, opened her mouth to say something, but instead stared at Kara with wide eyes. 

Lena had looked out at the daring sea with little more than a curious gaze, had swum in an ocean that she feared, and hardly reacted at all when the bustle of her skirt caught flame.

But Lena stared at Kara as if Kara held all the powerful fury of ocean and fire, and even more than that. Lena stared at Kara as if Kara were the most terrifying wonder that Lena had ever seen, so fearful that Lena looked down and away, walking from Kara as quickly as she had the day they met. 

Kara stood panting and staring where Lena had just disappeared from view, but she couldn’t get her feet to move no matter how she longed to follow, frozen in place by the weight of what they had just done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry!! I'll fix it!! :P


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They do the thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a week early because I want to post it now. It's time. It needs to be shared ok.   
> not to spoiler or whatever, but this chapter is explicit and has thorough descriptions of sexual themes ok it's some good smut, v soft.

For Kara’s entire solitary trek back up to Luthor Manor, she wondered. She could no longer ignore how she felt or pretend the thoughts weren’t there. Was she wrong to have let Lena kiss her? Kara had been imagining what those lips might feel like since the first time she’d seen them, even if she hadn’t realized it at the time. Was she wrong for wanting to kiss Lena again? For wanting to also know how Lena’s hands would feel against her own, how Lena’s sure, calloused fingers would feel across Kara’s body? 

She’d never heard of two women together, but how could there be anything wrong with it when Lena made Kara’s heart feel freer than it ever had before? Loving Lena felt like taking a full breath in the crisp autumn air after smothering behind a thick scarf for her whole life. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

There was nothing wrong with the butterflies in Kara’s stomach, or the sweat on her palms as she thought about kissing Lena again. The only thing wrong was that Lena was getting married, and Kara wasn’t sure if Lena wanted to kiss her again too. Lena had run away, and Kara had to let her.

Night had fallen by the time she reached Luthor Manor, and all Kara wanted was to find Lena and tell her how much she loved her.

She wouldn’t. 

Kara couldn’t make Lena choose between her marriage and all the security that went with it and her; a common painter with a sick sister and nothing to offer but a lifetime of wondering if what they were to each other was wrong. 

Kara bit her lip as she climbed the stairs to the manor, forcing herself not to cry. She would respect Lena’s choice, respect that Lena had run away. 

She would have to let Lena go. 

She would have to make it easier on both of them and let Lena run.

The emptiness Kara felt while eating without Lena was almost palpable, even though Jess sat a few feet away, glancing at the door every so often as if she felt Lena’s absence too. 

“Miss Luthor said she was feeling sick. Did something happen?” Jess asked as she pushed a lump of potato around her plate. 

Kara bit her lip, suddenly loathe to eat her own food. She’d made Lena feel sick. She kept her eyes down, shaking her head, hoping that Jess wouldn’t press her with more questions that Kara could never answer. 

Kara finished her dinner, feeling emptier than she ever had before. 

She wanted nothing more than to go to Lena, to ask if she was alone in her feelings or if Lena longed to be with Kara too. Kara _ wanted _ , what, she wasn’t quite sure, but she closed her eyes to the pain of her heart, only to be confronted with images of Lena’s lips. 

At the top of the stairs, Kara hesitated. She pressed her fingers to her lip, brow furrowed as she stared at Lena’s door, yearning for a woman whose unwanted marriage Kara was a catalyst for. 

Kara turned her gaze away, closing her eyes as she took deep, calming breaths. Every choice had been taken away from Lena. Kara wouldn’t be another person to ignore what Lena so clearly wanted, even if turning away from Lena’s bedroom made Kara’s chest ache so severely that she struggled to breathe under the pressure of it. 

Her eyes stung with hot tears and she took shuddering breaths, escaping into her bedroom blindly and resting the back of her head on her closed door as she tried to convince herself that she was making the right choice. 

A creak of the floorboards caused Kara to gasp, opening her eyes to find Lena standing in front of the hearth and looking at Kara with the same fear she’d run away from at the beach. 

Lena worried at her bottom lip, her bright, sea-green eyes wide with the unknown, but still so full of curiosity. 

“Kara,” she whispered, and Kara was pulled toward her as if Kara were the tide, unable to resist the pull of a full moon. She stood in front of Lena before she was aware she’d even moved, searching Lena’s face for something,  _ anything _ , that would make Kara feel steady in the face of such uncertainty. 

Small puffs of Lena’s breath washed across Kara’s cheeks and Lena’s eyes flickered to Kara’s lips. 

And maybe Lena didn’t know what to say or what any of it meant either, but she was  _ there,  _ and she was steady, and even without words, her meaning was clear. 

They were in this together. 

Kara dropped her head onto Lena's shoulder, trying to breathe, but Lena’s dress smelled of sea salt and fire, which only made Kara’s head spin more. 

As if Lena could read Kara’s thoughts, Lena drew her hands up, resting on Kara’s hips like an anchor.

Lena’s hands were sure, and steady despite the worry in her eyes, supporting Kara while she trembled.

“Why can’t I stay away from you?” Lena whispered into Kara’s hair before burying her face into Kara’s neck and placing a gentle kiss below Kara’s ear. 

Kara fell more heavily against Lena, tilting her neck to the side as her body became weightless and heavy at the same time. Kara wanted to hold onto something, but her hands shook at her sides, and she wasn’t sure if she could reach out and touch Lena after spending so long only looking. 

Her head fell back, and she looked up at Lena through the haze in her mind, wanting, wanting,  _ wanting,  _ with no idea what to do. 

Lena’s hands caressed up Kara's body and around her back as if they were searching for something, but when her lips met Kara’s again, Lena kissed her as if what she’d been looking for had finally been found. 

Kara sighed into the kiss, and though her hands tremored, she reached up to caress the sharpness of Lena’s jaw anyway. 

Lena didn’t seem to mind the way Kara’s body shook with nerves, and when Kara opened her mouth, unable to hold in the small whimper that she’d been trying to hide, Lena smiled as she swallowed the noise, deepening the kiss. 

Lena made Kara feel like a puddle, like sinking into a hot bath, unable to focus through the steam.

But Lena was stable, so Kara’s hands trailed down her neck and grasped the collar of Lena’s dress like a lifeline, where Lena's heart beat just as fast as Kara’s own. 

Kara felt as though she were being devoured, but all she wanted was to give in to it, so when Lena’s hand rose to tangle into Kara’s hair, Kara opened her mouth and moaned at the feeling of Lena’s tongue pressing gently into her own. 

Lena bit Kara’s bottom lip before pulling away, and for every bit as beautiful as Lena’s lips had been before, they were even more so kiss swollen in a gentle smile. 

Kara pulled back from the kiss, gasping for breath, secured to Lena by the hands at her back. Lena’s hooded gaze bore into Kara’s own, cheeks flushed and sharing air, and Kara longed to be consumed. 

Her hands traced the contours of Lena’s face, across her cheekbones, with Kara’s thumbs resting on Lena's bottom lip, disbelieving that Lena was real; that Kara was allowed to touch her. 

Kara caressed Lena’s jaw, down her neck, across the delicate curve of Lena’s collarbones, decorated with dark freckles that Kara longed to run her lips across. 

So she did. 

Lena sucked in a light gasp, shuddering on the exhale as Kara licked her salty skin. She reached up for Kara’s hands, and with a crooked grin, Lena began to back toward Kara’s bed, a quirked eyebrow inviting Kara to follow like a fish caught on a line. 

Lena bumped into Kara’s bed and Kara collided into her, causing Lena to chuckle at their clumsiness. 

“I would… like to take off your dress,” Lena whispered, stroking her thumbs across Kara's knuckles.

Kara had never done anything so intimate with man, woman, or otherwise, but she knew she wanted it. She had no idea what she was doing, but allowing Lena to remove the dress felt right. Kara had heard women talk about touching and the pleasure it could bring, and for the first time she understood what they had meant. 

So she nodded. 

Instead of turning Kara around to unlace the ties, Lena pressed their bodies together once more, breathing against Kara’s neck, flaring goosebumps across her skin. Lena was so slow, so gentle with the laces, that by the time the skirts fell to the floor, Kara could barely stand. 

Lena pulled the sleeves from Kara’s arms, pushing everything down to a puddle on the floor, leaving Kara in nothing but her thin, white shift. 

Kara’s cheeks were so warm she was sure she was crimson and flushed even deeper as Lena’s gaze trailed down to where Kara’s breasts poked the thin cotton she wore. 

Lena’s hands clasped Kara’s hips, squeezing her there before drifting up her twitching stomach and pausing on her ribs, just below the swell of her chest. Her green eyes met Kara’s in a silent question, and Kara nodded again. 

Her head fell back as Lena’s hands pressed up into her breasts, cupping and squeezing them as Lena leaned in to kiss Kara’s neck. 

Kara whimpered as wetness started to trickle down her leg, and she pressed her hands into the small of Lena’s back for support. “ _ Lena.” _

In response, Lena bit at Kara’s pulse point, soothing it with her tongue and breathing heavily into Kara’s ear. 

“Take my dress off,” Lena panted. 

Kara felt as though her hands didn’t want to work. They got tangled in the laces of Lena’s gown, and she was too distracted by Lena kissing her neck to focus. Kara tugged at the garment as she got it untied, so eager to get it down Lena’s body that it kept bunching up on itself and getting caught. 

The puffs of air from Lena’s laugh tickled Kara’s neck, and Kara groaned, from frustration, from arousal, her mind was too foggy to tell. All Kara knew was that she wanted to be closer, as close as possible to Lena without the barrier of any clothes at all. 

The realization was striking. Lena pulled away slightly, tugging Kara from the puddle of her skirts on the floor, and turned them, guiding Kara down onto the bed with a reverence that took Kara’s breath away. 

Kara lay back on the pillows as Lena pulled her own dress off, adding to the pile on the floor before she was left in a silk shift that caressed her curves like curtains, and Kara wanted to pull them back. 

Lena awoke in Kara a kind of tender need that Kara had never known, and the only thing that brought her any reprieve was nearness. She reached out for Lena’s hand, pulling her onto the mattress, and settling her over Kara’s thighs. Lena’s shift bunched up as she straddled Kara, revealing creamy, pale skin. 

Kara licked her lips, touching Lena’s knees before trailing her hands up Lena’s smooth thighs. Her hands caught in the silk of Lena’s shift, and Kara looked up. “Can c-can I-” 

“ _ Yes, _ ” Lena whispered, raising her arms as Kara sat up to pull the garment over Lena’s head, her dark hair cascading down her back in loose waves. 

Kara placed her hands back on Lena’s hips, squeezing the flesh there and causing Lena to gasp and grind into her. Kara wanted her to do it again. 

She reached around grasping Lena’s behind, trying to encourage Lena to grind again. And she did, tilting her head back in a moan that Kara knew she would never tire of hearing. Kara rested her hands on Lena’s thighs, once again distracted by the smattering of freckles that decorated Lena’s skin, illuminated by the warm glow of the firelight. 

Kara leaned in to kiss, to suck a trail down Lena’s chest, determined to kiss every beauty mark she found, encouraged by Lena’s labored breathing and the way she clung to Kara’s shoulders. 

Kara paused at Lena’s breasts, looking up to wait for Lena to nod before sucking a mark into the swell of skin there. She enveloped Lena’s nipple into her mouth, teasing it with her tongue and grinning at the moans emanating from above her. 

Her thighs were wet, so wet, and Kara blushed, looking down in alarm to see how much she was soaking herself, only to realize that it was Lena’s arousal leaking onto Kara’s leg. Kara moaned at the sight of Lena’s legs splayed open across her body, her hair dewy with their shared arousal. 

“You are made to inspire art,” Kara said, “you’re too beautiful not to be.” 

She reached to caress Lena’s pink cheek, drawing her thumb across Lena’s trembling bottom lip, eager to once again know its softness. As they kissed, Lena tugged on the back of Kara’s shift, bunching it around her midriff until they broke apart to remove it, coming together again in sloppy kisses. 

Lena’s breasts pressed against Kara’s, and she reached up to feel the weight of them, thumbs pressing into the hardness of Lena’s nipples. Lena pushed Kara’s shoulders back, toppling her back onto the pillows below, taking several long moments to stare at Kara’s body.

Lena pulled back, raising a leg and separating Kara’s with it before kneeling between Kara’s spread legs. Kara thought to blush or to feel embarrassed at all, but the hunger in Lena’s eyes made Kara want to spread her legs wider, to offer up more of herself. Offer up everything. 

Lena placed a hand on Kara’s quivering stomach, taking a moment to trace the contours of muscle there before moving down, pausing at the hair at the apex of Kara’s legs to wait for a nod. 

Kara moaned, nodding and grinding her hips up into Lena’s hand, overcome completely with desire for her. Lena’s finger grazed through Kara’s wetness, and Kara’s body jolted as Lena pressed into the bundle of nerves there. They paused, looking at each other in wonder before Lena pressed it again. 

With a moan, Kara’s head fell back, lost in bliss as Lena began to touch Kara in slow circles. Without much thought, Kara’s body seemed to know what to do, and her hips began to gyrate in time with the speed of Lena’s fingers. 

As good as it felt, Kara wanted Lena to share in her bliss, so she pushed herself up on one hand, reaching between her own legs and grabbing Lena’s inner thigh. 

“Can I touch you too?” Kara whispered around her shuddering breath, and when Lena separated her thighs, Kara’s own legs spread wider as a result, causing them both to moan. 

Lena’s hand slipped lower, gathering wetness before circling back up to Kara’s clit. 

Kara kept focused on Lena’s face as she reached down to coat her fingers in Lena’s arousal, loving the way Lena’s eyelids fluttered at the contact and the way her breathing hitched, the way her inner thighs twitched with the light pressure of Kara’s fingers, and Kara was overcome with the need to overwhelm Lena with that pleasure.

Lena’s brows knit together as she fought through the pleasure Kara brought her to focus on giving Kara the same thing, the gyration of their hips stuttering as they found a rhythm together. Kara dropped her forehead to Lena’s shoulder, whimpering at the sight of their chests, of their hands rubbing each other’s bodies, and it was almost too much, but still not enough. 

Kara’s cunt throbbed and clenched around nothing as she ground her hips into Lena’s hand, so she pressed her own hand lower, feeling how Lena’s body opened up and twitched around the tips of her fingers before pressing inside into warm, fluttering walls while Lena cried out. 

Kara pumped her hand in and out, adoring the way Lena’s body pulled her fingers deeper. 

Instead of Lena following Kara’s lead, she used her second hand to enter Kara, while the fingers of her other hand continued to work small circles on Kara’s clit, and it was too much, it was so much to look at, so Kara closed her eyes, kissing Lena’s neck and across her chest as they both lost themselves in each other. 

Kara threw her head back in a moan, her breath catching in her throat at the vision of rapture across Lena’s face. 

Her dark, silk hair clung to the sweat beading on her forehead, her eyes closed in focus, and her lips, her swollen pink lips separated as she cried out in time with the pleasure Kara gave her. 

The pressure in Kara’s body was uncontrollable, like a riptide she didn’t see coming, and as Lena’s legs began to spasm, as her cries echoed into the room, Kara let herself get pulled under, releasing everything like a wave, crashing into the shore. 

Her limbs went weak, and she fell back onto the pillows, quickly followed by Lena herself. 

Their hands fell away from each other only to find other areas to cling to as they tried to catch their breath. Lena’s hands rested on Kara’s ribs, and Kara’s arms enveloped Lena completely, holding her close and enjoying the weight of Lena between her spread legs with their chests pressed together. 

When Kara woke awash in late-morning sunlight, she did so with a start at the weight of another body in her bed, but as flashes of the night before echoed in her mind, she smiled. Her body ached as she stretched it, but the soreness was a pleasure because it reminded Kara of how Lena had touched her. She buried her nose into the hair at the back of Lena’s neck, kissing her there as she pulled the woman closer, her back to Kara’s front. 

Lena was so soft, everywhere, and Kara brushed her hand across the tops of Lena’s thighs, over the smoothness of her stomach, over her heavy breasts, and to the freckle of Lena’s throat. 

Lena’s lazy groan widened Kara’s grin, and Lena’s body arched into the touch, her behind pressing into Kara’s groin with delicious pressure. 

“I’ve never had such a wonderful wake-up,” Lena said, her voice deep with sleep. Kara kissed the underside of her jaw before raising herself onto her elbow, smiling down at Lena. 

“I was just thinking the same,” she whispered. 

Lena’s eyes were so gentle, so relaxed in the morning. Kara knew she was lucky to see Lena like that. See her before she put up her guard for the day. Before Lena shrouded herself in armor, she was soft, and she reached up to Kara’s cheek with such tenderness, before pulling her down into a kiss. 

Kara kept her eyes closed after she pulled away, trying to memorize how Lena’s lips felt against her own.

“What are you thinking about?” Lena asked.

“Nothing,” Kara whispered, because how was Kara supposed to say she was trying to hold onto these small moments they had together so that she may never forget any part of Lena in their absence from each other? How could Kara share that without also forcing guilt onto Lena? 

She couldn’t, so she stayed quiet.

Lena had changed her. Lena was like a sharp realization; a heavy stone thrown onto the surface of a lake, creating ripples that turned to waves, but Kara knew, no matter how the ripples diminished, and even if the stone was unseen, Lena would always be there, deep down, changing Kara forever. 

And that was enough. Just knowing that Kara was going to hold a piece of Lena so deeply in herself forever, that was enough. 

It had to be. 

Painting Lena was… 

Well, it got both easier and harder after that. It was as if all the parts Kara had struggled to bring to canvas suddenly came to life by her brush. If she got stuck, she could close her eyes and find a memory of Lena’s eyes, or her lips, or her hands,  _ God,  _ her hands, and by knowing each part so intimately, Kara was able to understand them better. She was able to paint them better. 

But she would blush each time she relied on a memory, and find Lena’s heady gaze on her, smirking as if she knew exactly what Kara was thinking about, and distracting Kara from the painting all over again. 

They stole away every moment they could, and maybe some moments they shouldn’t have, moments where the sun was up and Kara should have been painting, or moments where Lena would normally have spent reading, but they knew their time was too temporary to care. 

Kara shared her desire freely, and Lena awoke in her a need, a visceral exigency so profound that Kara doubted she could ever find it again. Didn't want to bother trying.

She wondered if Lena might find it again, perhaps with the husband that awaited her in Metropolis. 

Kara hoped so. 

Because her portrait of Lena sat drying on the easel and it portrayed every facet of Lena’s beauty so thoroughly that it took even Kara’s breath away. Lena’s chin was tilted up slightly, defiant, just as the woman herself, but her wide eyes hopeful and curious, and so alive. Her plump lips frozen in a perfect pout, except on one end, which curved so slightly into a smirk that Kara wasn’t sure anybody else would see it. 

It was the most beautiful painting Kara had ever done. 

She loathed it. 

“It’s lovely,” Lena said, looking at the portrait in both awe and resignation. “You made me look so beautiful, I’m worried my husband will be disappointed when we meet.” 

Lena laughed, so self-deprecating, trying to pass over her sadness with her dry wit, but Kara saw the wetness gathering on Lena’s eyelashes. Kara knew the slight downturn of Lena’s lips. 

“The portrait can’t compare to the real thing,” Kara said, reaching up to stroke her thumb across Lena’s cheek, trying not to let her voice crack. “Not by half, and he will be lucky to know you.” 

Lena pressed her face into Kara’s palm, closing her eyes and kissing her there. “I fear nobody will ever know me again the way you do, Kara Danvers. Not by half.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry!! We're gonna get a happy ending, I promise, but first, we gotta EARN IT


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lillian comes home and ruins everything because she's just the worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, i know it's tuesday and not Saturday, but like... y'all got 2 extra chapters last week and time means nothing to me.   
> one more chapter to go after this one!!

The news of Lillian’s imminent return hit Kara like an axe splitting firewood, and she felt as if she were back on the small boat that brought her to Thorul; dizzy with sickness and all warmth stolen from her. She felt as though she was being split in half. 

“Kara?” Jess asked after long moments of Kara’s shocked silence. “Is the painting done?” 

Kara swallowed, tried to speak, and couldn’t, swallowed again and nodded. 

“That’s good isn’t it?” Jess asked. “You can go home and see your sister.” 

“Yes,” Kara whispered, trying to smile despite the heavy weight in her stomach. “Do you know where Lena is?” 

“On a walk, I think.” 

Kara turned from the kitchen and walked from the manor as fast as she could, knowing she would find Lena at the beach near the caves where they had first kissed. As soon as Kara woke up to an empty bed, she knew something was wrong. 

She found Lena sitting in the sand against a large stone with her legs tucked under herself, paging through Kara’s book. 

“Mother returns tomorrow,” Lena said without looking up; as if pretending that the pain wasn’t there could somehow make it hurt less.

“Jess told me,” Kara said, settling herself next to Lena in the sand and studying her profile before taking out spare bits of charcoal and parchment.

Kara had kept drawing Lena as often as she could, even though the painting was complete, and even though she had pages and pages of Lena filling her sketchbooks. 

Sometimes Lena would pose or smile for her, but mostly Lena would just gaze, at Kara or out into the open sea like she was then, radiating such sorrow that Kara felt it as her own. 

“I feel your eyes on me like the burns of the sun,” Lena murmured as she flipped through Kara’s book. “Why do you keep drawing me? You have so many sketches.” 

“I want to remember you. Every bit, as much as I can,” Kara said, and by the clench of Lena’s jaw, knew that she said the wrong thing. 

“You don’t get to say that to me,” Lena bit, snapping Kara’s book shut and piercing Kara with green,  _ green  _ eyes and furrowed brows. “You came here, entered an impossible situation, saving your sister or condemning me to a life I never asked for, an impossible situation and you made a choice. I bear you no grudges for that choice, so you don’t get to sit here and make me feel guilty for making an impossible decision too.” 

For every bit as angry as Lena had started, the more she spoke the more her voice cracked. Tears gathered in her eyes and she held the back of her hand up to her nose, trying to stifle the shuddering breaths that threatened to turn to sobs. 

Kara would do anything for Lena. She would fight for a life together if that was what Lena wished of her. Kara would confront the whole world until she could convince them all that their love wasn’t wrong, but the fact of the matter was that it wasn’t only Kara’s decision, and she loved Lena far too much to take that choice away. 

She loved Lena enough to let Lena decide, to give Lena the one thing no other had ever offered. Even if Lena’s choice wasn’t Kara. 

“Don’t feel guilty,” Kara whispered, “that’s not what I mean to make you feel. I regret nothing, not a single moment with you, and I don’t blame you for this situation that you have no control over. If you wish to be married then I will support you in that.” 

“I don’t  _ wish  _ to be married,” Lena scoffed through the congestion her tears made. “There is no other choice. Mother will destroy your career if I disregard her intentions for me, and you will be left with nothing. I can’t- I can’t be responsible for that, Kara. I can’t bear the heartache. And we can offer nothing of virtue to each other.” 

Kara bit her lip, looking out at the waves that sprayed cold mist over her cheeks, knowing Lena was right but wishing  _ so much  _ that she wasn’t. 

“I would give it up,” Kara choked out. “I would never paint again if it meant I could keep you. I would throw virtue to the gutters and I wouldn’t care if I followed it there.” 

“Please don’t,” Lena whispered, tears falling down her face as she stared at Kara, imploring Kara to understand. “Don’t make it harder for me to let you go.” 

Kara reached over, wiping the tears away before wrapping her arms around Lena, pulling the other woman to her chest. “I will think of you often, and always in a pleasant light.”

Lena pulled back from the hug, wiping Kara’s own tears and staring at every inch of Kara’s face as if Kara were a precious gift. “I daresay I’ll remember nothing but you for all of my days to come.” 

They spent the evening holding each other, keeping as close as possible while they still could, pretending that goodbye wasn’t less than a day away. 

“You must have hundreds of images of me now, but I’ll have nothing of you to keep,” Lena said as they laid splayed together on a blanket in front of the hearth in Kara’s room. 

Kara bit her lip, looking around for something of hers that she could give, but she had packed only what was necessary and had no trinkets. But Lena wanted something to remember Kara by, and Kara did not want to deny Lena such a small token. Kara grinned as she caught her own reflection in the mirror she’d left on the floor all those weeks ago, laughing at Lena’s confused face as Kara got up to get it.

Kara placed the mirror on the wall in front of them, took her tattered copy of _ Pride and Prejudice,  _ and began flipping through the pages until she found the line she was looking for. 

There, on the page which read  _ ‘ _ _ Think only about the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure’ _ , in the margins, Kara began to sketch herself. She drew herself happy, the way she wanted Lena to remember her so that Lena might understand that Kara wished her no ill will for the choice Lena had made. 

Kara underlined the quote, and after she had finished the small sketch of herself on page two-hundred and forty-eight, she handed the book back to Lena, who stared down at it in wonder. 

“Keep my book. I won’t be able to read it again without thinking of you anyway,” Kara said, covering Lena’s hands with her own. 

“Why do you think I read it so much?” Lena whispered, her eyes soft in the firelight. Kara smiled at her then, and they lay down together just to look, just to touch, just to share the same space while they still had the chance. 

The sharp knock on Kara’s door startled her awake, the sky outside too murky and full of clouds to know what time it was. Kara sat up with a gasp. She and Lena had slept in too late, that much was certain. The knocking came again, louder, and Lena grumbled awake too, blearily eyeing Kara with one eye closed. 

“Miss Danvers,” Lillian’s voice echoing through the door froze both of them in place. They stared at each other, dressed only in their shifts, as Lillian continued. “I seem to have misplaced my daughter.” 

“Ju-just a moment!” Kara knew her voice was too high pitched as she hollered toward the door, throwing Lena’s dress at her face in her panic. “Sorry.” 

They scrambled to tie each other’s laces as fast as their shaking hands would allow, Lena settling back onto the floor with her book as Kara pulled her boots on and raced to answer the door. 

“Hi!” Kara greeted. Way too cheery. 

Lillian’s eyes turned to slits as she looked from Kara’s unbrushed hair, down to her wrinkly dress and untied shoes. “Jess tells me the painting is done?” 

Kara nodded, backing up to allow the Lady of the House access, and though it was near impossible to see, Lillian faltered slightly at the sight of Lena, laying on her stomach on the floor in front of the hearth, head resting on one hand as she pretended to read Kara’s book. 

“Lena. What on earth are you doing in here?” Lillian asked. 

Without answering, Lena raised the book along with her eyebrow, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

But Lillian’s eyes were far too knowing and shifted back to Kara with such a cutting gaze that Kara thought she might bleed. 

Kara cleared her throat, backing up a few steps, and bumped into her easel. “Oof. Oh, h-here’s the painting,” Kara squeaked. 

Lillian kept her eyes trained on Kara as she advanced, like a snake about to strike but turned to the portrait at the last second. She eyed the painting with the same critical gaze she looked at everything with. When she turned to smile at Kara, there was no warmth in her eyes, only malice. The same kind of look a cat got before it caught a bird, and though Lillian complimented Kara’s work, it only added to Kara’s hatred of it. 

“You were right,” Lillian said.

Kara clenched her jaw as Lillian reached into her coat purse, pulling out a heavy envelope, sealed with the Luthor crest. 

“About what?” Kara asked. 

“Your work is better than your cousin’s.” Lillian held the heavy envelope out to Kara with a smirk. “Despite the surprise of you ruining the first portrait, and because I no longer have a need to worry about my wealth, I’ve decided to give you a bonus as well as a letter of recommendation.” 

Kara’s breath came faster, in large heaves that she struggled to control. “I-thank you, Mrs. Luthor.” 

“And  _ I  _ would recommend, that when you leave this island with this letter, a promise of your future and the extra money I have been generous enough to gift you, that you focus on your work, and  _ stay away from my daughter.”  _

“Mother?” Lena finally closed the book, standing up in confusion only to be ignored. 

Lillian leaned in close, looming over Kara with her wide, bitter eyes and a face full of scorn. 

“I-I-” Kara stammered. 

“You  _ nothing.  _ You will go home. You will attend to your ill sister. You will create a comfortable life for yourself, but you will leave my daughter out of it, do you understand? Do not try to contact her. No letters, no visits, nothing, or I will  _ ruin _ you, Kara Danvers.” 

“Mother, she did nothing-” 

“You will be silent.” Lillian interrupted Lena. She did not shout, but her calmness was worse than a storm. “You will do your duty, and you will not bring shame to the Luthor name, Lena. No more than you already have.” 

Lena bit her lip, looking down to where she fiddled with Kara’s book. 

Lillian’s sharp gaze turned to Kara once more. “Take what I have given you, and leave my sight.” 

Kara tilted her chin up, and despite her fear, she looked Lillian in the eye pretending everything was fine as she stuttered, “Thank you for the letter.” 

Kara approached Lena slowly, looking for one sign of regret, one sign that Lena didn’t want to go through with her plan to marry a stranger, and though Lena’s eyes watered slightly, there were no signs. 

There was nothing for Kara to save. 

Lena glanced from Kara’s face to the thick envelope Kara now clasped in her hand, before searching Kara’s eyes, and though Lillian was right there, and Kara didn’t doubt that Lillian could ruin her, she leaned in to hug Lena anyway. 

She pulled away with a shuddering breath, placing a gentle kiss on Lena’s cheek. 

And maybe Kara lingered a touch too long, but so what? Everything they had shared existed in stolen moments, and Kara wouldn’t give up her last one. 

Lena was a force of nature all on her own, and she was careening toward a tumultuous future; a husband as unpredictable and powerful as the ocean, and Kara was a wildfire trailing behind her, trapping Lena between two forces with equal likelihood of consuming her.

So Kara had to leave. 

Kara needed every ounce of strength she had to pull herself away from Lena, who was like a statue beneath her, before walking away without a second glance.

She snagged her packed rucksack from the foot of her bed and walked out of the door as fast as she could, faster than the tears could fall so that Lillian wouldn’t hear them. So that Lena wouldn’t know how hard she cried. 

She ran into Jess halfway down the stairs, who looked at Kara’s tear-stricken face with wide eyes. 

“Miss Danvers, what’s the matter?” 

“You take care of her, Jess,” Kara choked out. “In Metropolis, you make sure that she’s h-happy, and that her husband has lots of books, and that he l-lets her go to the theatre so she can listen to what real music is like. Will you do that?” 

Jess nodded, shocked by Kara’s outburst. Kara tried to walk away, but Jess yelled, “Your coat, Miss Danvers!” 

She held the garment up to Kara, helping her shrug into it as Kara wiped the snot from her nose. Kara pulled Jess into a tight hug.

“ _ Thank you,”  _ Kara whispered, and she continued onto the path she had taken so many times with Lena, through the great trees now bare from leaves, across the plain where Lena had run, down the cliffside and across their beach, alone. 

She hardly noticed the rain. 

The waves were just shy of nauseating as the men rowed Kara away from the large island of Thorul, and though the wind whipped so hard Kara’s ears ached with it, and though the cold rain soaked through her cloak with vigor, Kara was glad for it, so that she might hide her tears and blame the way she sniffled on the cold. 

She hardly remembered the journey back to National City. It was as if time had sped up and stopped all at once, and Kara couldn’t be bothered to care either way. The weeks-long journey felt both like a lifetime and an instant, and before Kara knew it, she was home.

It was nightfall when she stepped out of her last carriage and into the muddy street, looking up to the small apartment she shared with Alex. An orange glow emanated from their window, and the thought of her sister gave Kara what strength she needed to continue. 

Her boots thudded against the dusty wood stairs, and though the smell of the woodstove and paint embraced Kara like a hug, she never felt further away from home. 

One look at Alex, up and moving about on her own again, had Kara choking back tears. 

Alex turned to her, eyes wide from the unexpected arrival, and quickly rushed over to wipe the tears from Kara’s cheeks. 

“You’re home! Kara, what’s wrong?” Alex asked as Kara hugged her and cried into Alex’s shoulder as if they were still children. “Was Miss Luthor that terrible?” 

“No,” Kara whispered around a great sob. “No, she was that wonderful.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this feels a bit fast-paced, but I don't want to drag it out with fluff? idk. hope it's alright.  
> pls don't be angry, it will FIX IT!!! I am too soft for sorrow to be permanent :P


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to give a little bit of Lena's point of view... as a treat

He was nothing at all like Lena was anticipating.

Jack Spheer was kind and patient, and though their wedding was a grand affair - an excuse to tastefully show his wealth to the locals - he went out of his way to ask Lena what he could do to make her as comfortable as possible. 

He was charming. 

Lena didn’t trust it for a second. 

Lillian was always close by, always watching, and though Jack’s kindness felt familiar in a way that reminded Lena of Kara, Lena’s suspicion didn’t waver.

It was odd living in a new house vaster than Luthor manor, but warmer too, with cushioned throws and soft, red tapestry decorated in golds and oranges surrounding thick wooden shelves. 

The mansion was full of books Lena had never read, servants willing to play music for her, and Jack let her come and go as she pleased. Lena went to the theatre or the orchestra or museums, Jess always accompanying her of course. They were all every bit as beautiful as Kara had described and Lena adored every moment, but her love for music and art was largely undermined by her love of Kara, and though Lena enjoyed her small adventures, she often left them feeling more alone than ever. Lena felt as if she were screaming, waiting for the echo of Kara to greet her in return only to be met with silence.

Sometimes Jack would join her instead of Jess and though they were married he began to feel more like a friend than anything. 

It took time, but Lena learned she could trust him and he never forced her to hold his arm or hand, never expected even a kiss on the cheek after an evening out. He simply existed in Lena’s life as a constant reliable person Lena could talk to, and every time Lillian tried to impose something on him or Lena, he would remind Lillian of the great favor he had done them, that he  _ and  _ Lena would not be pushed into anything. 

Lillian hated him but loved his money, and after a time, largely left them alone. 

And if Lena heard the telltale signs of two or perhaps three people moaning down the hall from Jack’s bedroom, she did not complain because he never raised a hand to her, and never expected her to perform what most people expected as ‘wifely duties.’ 

She could sit in her own bedroom reading to her heart’s content, so as far a Lena was concerned her life in Metropolis was as ideal as she could possibly have hoped for. 

Lena, however much she missed Kara - kept Kara’s book with her always and read it until the pages were frayed - thought she might have been able to be content in this life with Jack. 

He was kind, and by the time Lena realized that kindness was genuine, it had been half a year since leaving Thorul.   
Plenty of time for Kara to forget about her. Plenty of time for Kara to move on. 

And move on, Kara did.   
She was in the news more often than not - under her cousin’s name of course, with articles written detailing the awe her paintings inspired.   
Lena was proud and smiled as she read whatever she could, glad their separation meant Kara could thrive.   
Lena tried to let her go; to let Kara prosper and lead the life she’d always dreamed of, sure that she was better off without Lena in her life. Without all the dramatics and heartache.   
Lena tried loving Jack instead. 

When Lena kissed him for the second time - nine months into their marriage - it was pleasant, though it didn’t invoke the same kind of heat kissing Kara had. Kissing Jack didn’t feel  _ wrong _ , but his beard scratched her face and instead of the soft, tentative hands Lena had come to expect, Jack held her steadily. 

His grip was firm, and though Lena could see the appeal of letting herself get lost and leaning on Jack to guide her, she much preferred the way Kara leaned on her, much preferred the way Kara trembled and sighed; like a gentle secret only they could know. In Jack’s strong arms, Lena mostly felt trapped. 

He pulled away smiling and Lena’s eyes darted to the floor because she couldn’t possibly return that smile, not when she spent the entirety of their kiss thinking about another woman. 

“You don’t seem thrilled,” Jack said, dropping his hands away from Lena’s hips and stuffing them in his pockets. 

“Sorry,” Lena said as she glanced up at him, but she didn’t find malice there. Maybe slight disappointment, but there was none of the anger she expected. 

“You don’t like men, do you?” He asked, causing Lena to freeze in place, thinking she was about to get kicked out of his house and perhaps stoned in the town square for being so perverted. Instead, Jack shrugged and gave her a sad, crooked smile before he said, “I do. I enjoy the company of other men. And women. Sometimes at the same time, so it’s fine if you don’t love me as a woman should love a husband, but you should know that I care for you a great deal, despite your prickly exterior, and I am here if you want to talk. As a friend.” 

Lena blinked at him as she processed what he said and once Lena got over her shock, her lips twitched up into a grin.

“Unless I’m just a  _ terrible  _ kisser,” Jack joked. 

“No, you’re fine,” Lena chuckled out. “Quite fine. It's just… I could love you. I could be happy here, in this life with you. I will try to be but my heart can never belong to you.” 

He searched her face with his kind brown eyes, soft in the way Kara’s were as he brushed Lena’s cheek with his knuckles.

“Did I perhaps steal you from a love of the ages?” he asked and Lena couldn’t help but laugh at his dramaticism. 

“Something like that,” Lena admitted, and it felt so  _ good  _ to talk to someone again; to have someone understand and accept her in a way Lena thought she’d never find. 

“Tell me about them,” he said.

And after nearly a year of consistent kindness and genuine concern from Jack, Lena decided to trust him.

She told Jack everything, even the things she was never able to tell Kara, either for fear of hurting them both more or because they lacked the time. Lena told Jack of her great love for Kara Danvers, the artist who decorated Lena’s life with bold strokes of colour Lena never thought she’d see and stole her heart in the process.

And Jack listened, comforted her. He took care of Lena like she always imagined a friend would and pushed her no further than that friendship. Lena loved him for it. 

She explained how Lillian forced her into this marriage, how Lillian had hired Kara behind Lena’s back, and then threatened Kara’s reputation if they ever spoke to each other again. 

“Her reputation is sound now,” Jack said. “What’s to stop you from reaching out? Even if your mother finds out, what can she do? If she exposes you, she loses my wealth and she’d be cast to the streets just as fast as you. Not that I  _ would  _ cast you out, but the point remains.” 

“So much time has passed. Enough time for her to forget about me,” Lena said, biting her lip and trying not to let the statement break her. 

“You are entirely too captivating to be forgotten, dearest. It wouldn’t hurt to ask her. I hear she’s going to be invited to a gallery opening here in the city to show off her newest work. Perhaps you could accompany me?” he raised his eyebrows but Lena shook her head. 

“No,” Lena said. “I won’t force her to see me, but if she does attend she’ll know I still think of her.” 

“How?” Jack asked. 

Lena smirked at him and shrugged before saying, “I can’t give away all my secrets, Jack.” 

* * *

As much as Kara hated to admit it (and she did, viscerally), Lillian Luthor’s extra funds and letter of recommendation had Kara’s reputation as an excellent artist spread through National City within a few short months. 

Winn and Alex (much to everyone’s surprise) had married, and though Kara thought their interactions were stilted and odd, she was supportive of the union, however unconventional or uncomfortable it seemed. Winn stayed in the flat he always had and under his name, Kara and Alex had been able to move from their small, grime-covered flat and bought an entire building with two separate apartments on the top floor and a studio at the bottom where Kara offered painting lessons to whoever wanted them. 

People, powerful people, from all across the country and sometimes even farther, traveled to  _ her  _ to get portraits done, and because her work was so well spoken of it was rare that someone commented on the fact that Kara was a woman. 

She was often asked if she was seeking a husband, and each time the question came, be it from a common butcher or a member of high-society that would normally be deemed outside of Kara’s station, she met each offer, each proposal, each declaration of admiration with the same sad smile and gentle refusal. 

Word spread of the beautiful painter whose heart belonged to art, and Kara never corrected them.

Though it had been months, nearing a year since Kara had left Thorul, she still thought of Lena every day. Lena, who was married to a man on the other side of the country. Lena, who had changed Kara’s life. Lena, who had taught Kara how to love. Lena, who Kara could never forget, even when she tried to. 

Lena was a part of everything Kara did, never far from her mind, and Kara carried the memory of what they’d had together close to her heart, the weight of those memories a welcome burden. 

Kara felt she owed it to Lena to make the most of what she had, and she put her all into her work. Under her cousin’s male name for fair judgment, Kara’s art hung in galleries across the country, and with each new showing of Kara’s art, she got to travel and explain the pieces, creating more connections than she knew what to do with. 

She got invited to galas, to operas, to orchestral performances as if she’d been a member of the upper-class all her life, as opposed to growing up near-starving. Kara knew she was lucky, and she did not squander any opportunity given to her. 

Not even when she got a letter in the mail detailing a gallery opening in Metropolis, where the curator wanted to showcase Kara’s latest works. 

Kara bit her lip, wondering if, for the first time, she should deny the request. 

Would Lillian be at the opening? It was the city where she resided. Would Lena be there? If so, would Lillian make good on her threats to ruin Kara?

Alex, noticing something was wrong, plucked the letter from Kara’s grasp and began to read it herself. 

“Hey!” Kara complained, reaching to steal it back. 

Alex ducked away from her easily, eyes scanning the page as her brows furrowed. Alex frowned as she finished reading, handing the letter back to Kara and looking at her expectantly. 

“What?” Kara asked. 

“Why are you upset? It’s just another gallery opening. You’re traveling to those all the time,” Alex said, placing her hands on her hips and staring down at Kara with a tilted head.

“Never to Metropolis, though,” Kara sighed. 

“Why is it different?” 

“You  _ know  _ why,” Kara sighed. 

“No, I don’t.” Alex crossed her arms, staring down at Kara with the same impatient confusion she always had when talk of Metropolis or the Luthors came up. 

Kara had never spoken of her time in Thorul. Not in detail, and though Alex pestered her endlessly for information, Kara knew she could never tell her sister what had happened. 

She could never tell anyone. 

Kara shook her head as she always did when Alex hedged the subject. 

“You have to tell me at some point, Kara. You’ve barely been yourself since coming home. All you do is work and travel, and any time I actually get to spend time with you, your mind is somewhere else. I miss my sister,” Alex said. 

“I’m sorry,” Kara murmured, looking at the letter so she wouldn’t have to see the disappointment on Alex’s face. “There’s nothing to say.” 

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine, but don’t do me the disservice of lying to my face,” Alex spat. Her hands were fisted at her sides, shaking slightly in her frustration, but the anger across Alex’s face did nothing to hide her worry. 

“I can’t tell you, Alex. I can’t,” Kara pleaded. 

“Well, whatever this is has upset you for long enough! It’s been a year, Kara. You deserve to be happy. Don’t let whatever reason Metropolis scares you keep you from doing what you love. If you want to show your paintings, show your paintings, and ignore whatever it is that’s holding you back. I don’t care what it is, it’s not worth making yourself smaller for. You never let anything stop you! Whatever this is shouldn’t either,” Alex ranted. She sighed and sat beside Kara on the bed, wrapping an arm around Kara. “Besides, Metropolis is the next biggest city in the country. It would be a waste not to accept the offer.” 

“You’re right,” Kara conceded. 

“Of course I am. Am I ever not?” 

Kara chuckled, leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder, and sighed. “I suppose I should write back a confirmation of attendance, then,” Kara said as her stomach dropped as if suddenly full of lead. 

* * *

Though Kara wore only a practical blue gown, the lace and weight of it made her feel like a princess even if it was the simplest dress in the room. Every time she attended an opening, though she looked the part, she still felt out of place. 

Everyone around her seemed to know exactly what to do. They spoke to each other with ease (and pompousness), and no matter what happened, be it a spilled glass of champagne, or harsh criticism, the only person whose palms sweat were Kara’s. 

It was like they were all in on a secret that Kara could never know. 

Still, Kara walked around the gala with her head held high, pretending to be every bit as confident as the smarmy men in ascots and their wives, dressed more beautifully than Kara could ever hope to be. 

She picked up a pamphlet from one of the attendants, eager to locate her own art display so she could answer questions from the people who were there to admire her work. 

Upon her perusal of the pamphlet, however, her eyes caught on a description that she’d been living in fear of ever finding. She gasped at the description. 

_ Portrait of Mr. Jack Spheer’s wife.  _

Kara had followed Lillian’s orders. She had not attempted to contact Lena in any way, and Lena hadn’t reached out to Kara either, but the news of two of the most well-known families in the country uniting, that had spread like wildfire and the news of Lena’s union with Mr. Spheer had been unavoidable for weeks. 

She bit her lip, debating whether she wanted to see the painting or if it would be too painful. But Kara knew. No matter how it hurt, her feet would carry her as close to Lena as she could get, even if it could never be the real thing. 

She cut through the heavy crowd, ignoring their chatter and trying to avoid bumping into anybody and failing miserably. She pushed through them, ignorant and uncaring of their glares as she shouldered them out of the way in her haste to reach the painting until she pushed through a crowd and froze. 

Sea-green eyes and a coy smile stole all the breath from Kara’s lungs, just as they always had. It was the smile Lena wore when she beat Kara at chess, the smile she had when she won. Kara swallowed the thickness of her throat as she took the portrait in. Lena’s dark hair, such a contrast to her pale skin, shone in a tight bun, making her jawline even more severe. Kara chuckled at that, following the curve of Lena’s freckled neck and chest, down her arms to Lena’s hands. 

Hands that held a book so faded and ragged, that the cover wasn’t discernable, but Kara knew that book. Lena still clasped it as tightly as she ever had, her sure fingers wrapping around to lift the edge of the book open to page  two hundred and forty-eight. 

Kara choked out a wet laugh at that. She could imagine in perfect clarity how Lena would demand the artist include it, or threaten not to pose at all. 

It was so small a reference, but it was there. A hint that Lena still thought of Kara too, and, much like their short time together had been, it was both beautiful and devastating to be privy to. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Kara jolted at the voice, looking over to find a well-dressed man smiling at the portrait. His deep burgundy coat was lovely with the brown of his skin, and his silk ascot and gold pocket watch spoke high of his wealth and station. 

Still, he spoke to Kara despite her meager dress with no jewelry, the sure sign that she didn’t quite belong. She looked back to the portrait too, eager for the chance to comment on Lena’s beauty without giving her feelings away. “Devastatingly beautiful.” 

“You should see her in person. The portrait is lovely, but it does not compare.” The man smiled at Kara, warm and open, but she felt frozen.

“Oh,” she forced out. She didn’t want to ask, “You know her?” 

“My wife,” he said, jovial grin crooked as he looked at the portrait. “She’s lovely here, but you should have seen the first portrait made of her. It’s  _ breathtaking _ .” 

Kara laughed through the wetness in her throat before swallowing. His wife. She looked from the number of the book to this man, Mr. Spheer, whose eyes gazed at the portrait with all the warmth Kara had ever wished Lena’s husband would have. “You seem to adore her.” 

“Of course!” He turned to smile at Kara. “She is my very best friend.”

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. Lena was loved, and that’s all Kara had ever wanted, so why was it so painful to hear that Lena had gotten everything she could have wished for? 

Kara pretended to see someone over Mr. Spheer’s shoulder, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hide her tears for much longer. She was already doing a poor job of it. She gave him as genuine a smile as she could before whispering, “I have to go. It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Spheer.” 

“Are you alright?” he asked, but Kara ignored his kindness, pushing back into the crowd and away as fast as she could. 

Though she heard shouts of, ‘Miss Danvers? Miss Danvers, wait!” over the din of the crowd, Kara ignored it. 

She didn't want to wait. Kara had always hoped Lena would be happy, and she thought knowing how kind Mr. Spheer was would make her feel better, but Kara instead felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Her dress was too tight, the air too hot, and the noise too much, so she ran out of the gallery and into the cool evening air. 

The damp cobblestones glistened in the streetlight and she was quick to pull her change purse out to throw money at a waiting carriage, pleading with him to take her to her hotel. 

Gallery opening be damned, Kara needed her sister, even if Kara could never explain what was wrong, she knew Alex would be there. 

She packed her few belongings quickly, heading back out to the waiting cab and offering him triple payment if he secured her transport all the way back to National City as soon as possible, hating that she could only afford the offer because of Lillian. 

As soon as Kara reached her house and entered the thin stairwell that led up to her apartment, she faltered, falling in on herself as sobs wracked her body. 

She crumbled at the bottom, half sitting, half slumped on the muddy wood as her shoulders heaved. 

Alex’s door burst open, her footsteps rushing down the stairs and she cried, “Kara?” 

Kara couldn’t talk over her shuddering breaths, but Alex crouched down to her level and wrapped her in a hug. 

“Kara, you have to tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you fix it,” Alex pleaded, her voice cracking.

Kara turned her head into Alex’s neck, almost knocking the candle Alex held to the floor before choking out, “There’s no fixing this.”

“Is this… about miss Luthor? About Lena?” Alex asked in the tentative, soft way she had, rubbing between Kara’s shoulder blades. 

Kara winced and the fresh tears gathering in her eyes were all the answers Alex needed. Alex placed her candle on the stair above them before wiping the tears off of Kara’s cheeks as they fell. Alex bit her lip, gazing at Kara’s face before clasping Kara’s hands almost painfully and looking down at where they sat in their laps. 

“Kara, I… I feel you think I might not understand, or that I may be… angry about what you tell me, if it is what I think you’ll tell me, but you are my sister no matter what, no matter how you feel, and… no matter who you love.” 

Kara gasped at Alex’s words, searching her face for the disgust or resentment she expected to find, only to see the same care she always had. 

“I tried not to, Alex,” Kara said around shuddering breaths, “I tried not to love her, but I do,  _ so much, _ it hurts.”

Alex pulled Kara into a hug, and Kara let herself be comforted as her shoulders shook. 

“I feel so lost without her, Alex. I don’t know how to find my way back to how things were before.” 

“We’ll find a way, Kara. We can get through this. You are not alone in this sadness, and you-” Alex paused to take a deep breath, steeling herself “-you are not alone in your love for women either.” 

Kara pulled back to gape at Alex’s nervous face. “You?” 

Alex nodded. 

“Does Winn know?” 

“Of course he knows! That’s why we’re married! He gets to be left alone from the pressure of his family to marry, and I get to live on my own without the advances of men. And you and I get to live here under my husband’s name. We married into a serviceable arrangement that benefits everyone.” 

“You never said anything. I could have helped with the plan if you’d told me,” Kara chastised as her crying died down. 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t understand. I was afraid you would push me away,” Alex whispered, and Kara tightened her arms around her sister, hoping she knew that Kara’s next words were true.

“Alex, I would never.” 

“And neither would I, but you kept it hidden too.” 

They looked at each other, Kara wrapping her head around her sister’s sham marriage, how her sister also liked women, and how she’d been stupid not to tell Alex the truth from the start. 

“Want to tell me about her?” Alex offered, swiping Kara’s hair away from her face. At Kara’s nod, Alex pulled them both to their feet. “Okay, but first we need to get somewhere with less mud and more wine.” 

Kara laughed, grabbing the candle before she followed Alex up the stairs and into her sister’s apartment. 

Kara plopped down on Alex’s couch, setting the candle onto the coffee table before shucking her boots from her feet. 

Alex’s eyes thinned at Kara’s mess but she said nothing as she carried over two glasses of dark red wine, Alex’s a little fuller. 

“Did she not love you in return?” Alex asked as she sat next to Kara swirling her glass before taking a sip. 

Kara scoffed through a smile before leaning her head back and turning to look at Alex’s studying gaze. 

“She did. She does,” Kara said, and she explained everything from the very beginning, from her first meeting with Lena and how Lena had kept her on her toes every moment since. Kara spoke of studying Lena and finding her attraction to Lena’s beauty an inexorable fate, and one she wouldn’t have stopped if she could have. 

Kara laughed as she spoke of Lena’s sharp wit, cried as explained the depth of Lena’s solitude and sorrow, and Alex held her as she explained seeing Lena’s most recent portrait with the book; proof of their continued love despite the fact that Lena’s husband was so delightfully charming. 

Alex’s gaze remained soft and caring, and Kara wished she could have known how her sister would have been so supportive so that she wouldn’t have suffered in silence for the past year. 

“People like us, we have to hide our love. It’s not an easy life, and one not well-suited to everyone. I’m sorry she wasn’t brave enough to-”

“No,” Kara interrupted. “No, it’s not that she isn’t brave. Lena is the most selfless and courageous person I’ve ever met. She married that stranger so that her mother wouldn’t destroy my career. Everything we have is because Lena was brave.” 

“At the cost of your happiness?” Alex asked.

Kara shook her head, biting her lip before she said, “At the cost of her own. 

Kara grumbled awake on her sister’s couch in the early morning light that spilled blue dust beams into the room. Her neck hurt from sleeping at an odd angle, and her muscles were sore from shivering despite the blanket Alex must have draped over her. 

A round of loud banging echos made the walls of Alex’s apartment shudder, though they weren’t reverberating off of Alex’s door, but from the hallway. There seemed to be no end in sight to the annoying sound, however, and the door to Alex’s room slammed open.

“Jesus Christ!” Alex complained as she dragged herself toward the door, hair messy and a scowl on her face. Kara silently wished luck to whatever poor soul was about to receive Alex’s wrath. She pulled the door open with a start and immediately started berating the intruder. “Listen, lady, I don’t give a damn how important you think you are, but if it is too early for the roosters, it’s too early for you to be going around banging on peoples’ doors! What the hell do you want with an artist so early in the morning anyway? Surely you're not so self-absorbed that you think getting a portrait painted is more important than the entire block and the  _ sun  _ sleeping?” 

Alex tried to slam the door, but it was blocked in a loud thud.

“N-no, please, I’m looking for Kara. Kara Danvers.” 

Kara gasped.

She would recognize that voice anywhere, even after all the time that passed, even if she’d never heard it so urgent before. 

She was up before she was aware of moving, and placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder, gently pushing her out of the way and gaping at Lena Luthor. 

Despite the obvious nerves - the furrowed brow and Lena biting her lip - she looked happy. She had filled out a little more, adding to her already beautiful curves, and her cheeks were flushed pink as if she’d been running. Perhaps she had been, with the way her chest expanded so quickly. 

Lena’s hair was no longer wind-swept and unruly but pulled back into a neat bun that shone even in the early morning light, and she fiddled with a feathered hat she held at her waist as she gazed at Kara. 

“Hi,” Kara breathed, and Lena heaved a great, shuddering breath before she flung herself at Kara, wrapping her arms around Kara’s neck and dropping her prim hat to the dusty floor. 

Kara enveloped her immediately, squeezing as tightly as she dared, tight enough for every hug she wished she could have given over the year of absence. 

Lena buried her face into Kara’s shoulder, breathing her in as she crushed Kara’s ribs just as tight. 

“Oh, I missed you,” Lena murmured into Kara’s neck before pulling away, cupping Kara’s face in her hands and simply looking as her lashes became dewy with tears. 

A great sigh heaved nearby had Kara glancing over at Alex, who glowered at both of them. 

“Lena Luthor, I assume?” Alex asked. Lena nodded, eyebrows raised as Alex crossed her arms. “You here to cause trouble with my sister?” 

Lena shook her head. “No. I promise.” 

Alex continued to glare before softening, though only Kara could recognize the way her sister’s shoulders took a less severe edge. She’d always had a knack for reading people. Alex glanced at Kara as if asking if she was okay, and Kara nodded. 

“I’m going back to bed,” Alex said before pointing at Lena. “No more rackets.” 

She stomped her way back to her bedroom, closing the door behind her in a slam. 

“Your sister is… lovely,” Lena said. 

A laugh bubbled up from Kara’s chest and she clasped her hands with Lena’s, pulling her across the hall and closing Alex’s door. 

Kara faltered there, in the middle of her hallway lit by the rising sun that shone through the glass panes of the door at the bottom of the stairs. She didn’t want to let Lena inside. Not if Lena wouldn’t stay. Kara didn’t want to create more vivid memories to haunt her, or let her apartment be consumed in images of Lena, too. So Kara turned in the hall, dropping Lena’s hands, and put her hands on her hips. 

“What are you doing here?” Kara asked, trying in vain not to let hope swell within her, but it did anyway; it always had. 

“I’ve come to apologize, and I’ve come for you. I… want to be with you. Here, in National City, if you’ll have me,” Lena said as her skirts rustled as she shifted on her feet.

It should have made Kara want to fly with joy, but the weight of the guilt in her stomach kept her grounded. The man from the gala was so devoted to Lena, and Kara couldn’t help but think him a better choice. 

“But your husband-”

“My husband is why I’m here. When he told me about a beautiful, teary-eyed blonde at the gala you were supposed to be at, and how she ignored everything but my portrait, I knew it was you.” 

“You weren’t there,” Kara said.

“I wasn’t sure you would want me to be. I wasn’t sure you still felt the same after all this time,” Lena said, reaching up to stroke Kara’s cheek as if she couldn’t help but touch.

“Of course I do,” Kara whispered. Her throat began to tighten so she swallowed it away, hoping her eyes weren’t too watery as she placed her hand on top of Lena's and kissed her palm. 

“I know that now.” Lena smiled. “Jack convinced me I was being stupid waiting any longer and that if your feelings for me were gone, then you wouldn’t have left the gala. He convinced me to go after you.” 

“But why now?”

“ _ Now _ your work stands on its own, separate from any critique my mother might make of it, and if she slanders my name and screams to the world of my love for you, then she must also defame my husband, and in doing so, rid herself of his wealth. I also had to make sure Jack’s understanding was genuine, that his kindness to me wasn’t a ploy by my mother.” 

“What makes you sure it isn’t?” 

“His kindness reminded me of you. It’s different, of course. I love him, but not in the same way. Not the way a wife should love her husband, and he’s been nothing but gracious about it. Aside from that, I found him doing some  _ very  _ interesting things with our gardener, and suffice to say, we’ve come to a mutually beneficial understanding.” 

Lena’s lips quirked as she spoke, and Kara’s hands tingled in their want to reach out and hold Lena. She settled for tangling their fingers together between them.

Kara asked, “It’s been so long. Why did you do it this way?” 

“Because I wasn’t sure it would work. I needed to know you would be secure in your career outside of me, so I had to marry Jack. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to be with you, but you gave me hope. I could not foresee my circumstance with my husband, and I knew you would not have let me marry him if I had told you that I wanted to be with you instead.” 

“No, I would have tried to convince you to come here with me,” Kara said, squeezing the clammy flesh of Lena's shaking hand. Lena smiled up at her, eyes soft and gentle.

“And I would have been helpless to resist you.” 

“But you said we could offer nothing of virtue to each other.” Kara bit her lip and looked to the floor, only to have her chin tilted back up with tender pressure. 

“Kara,” Lena whispered, “the way I feel for you extends beyond virtue or propriety. Beyond anything.” 

“But what about Mr. Spheer?” 

“We’re moving here. To national city. He’s opening up a new branch for his business here, and we decided to oversee it. He’ll be following me here to start it in a few weeks. We have plenty of time to catch up, and when he chooses a house here, there’s nothing to stop us from staying at each other’s houses.” 

“These secrets, living life this way, it’s not easy,” Kara warned. Lena’s hands fisted in Kara’s skirts and she looked at Kara with sharp eyes and a lifted chin, as steady as she'd ever been. 

“I know. But I also know that I love you, today and every day, not just the days that are easy, so if you want this then I will fight for it.” 

“You love me?” Kara smiled down at her and Lena chuckled.

“It’s impossible not to. I should know, I tried.” 

Kara laughed. “I love you too. I never stopped loving you.” 

Lena ruffled through the layers of her petticoats until she found a pocket, pulling Kara’s faded book out. As Lena handed it to Kara, it fell open to page two-hundred and forty-eight; as if it had been opened there thousands of times, and the quote had been underlined time and time again, though the small drawing of Kara had faded. 

_ Think only about the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure. _

“I thought of you every day,” Lena whispered.

Kara’s eyes welled up through her smile, and she cradled the book like the treasure it was as she said, “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” 

“Kara.” Lena shook her head before cupping Kara’s cheeks again, pressing their bodies close. “I would do anything for you.” 

“And I you,” Kara murmured as she wrapped her arms around Lena’s shoulders, grasping the book in one hand as she finally,  _ finally _ , pressed her lips to Lena’s once more, and though Kara  _ could  _ live without Lena, though she could find success and live a life all her own, Kara didn’t want to. 

She wanted to share everything she could with Lena, even if they had to be discreet in all things, because as she moved her lips against Lena’s, Kara found what she’d spent her life searching for. 

Home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been good at goodbyes or endings, but writing this self-indulgent crossover was a delight. As of right now, this is done, though on some distant day in the future I might do a small epilogue because Kara and Lena in this universe are fun to write, and I'm going to miss them.   
> I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I adored writing it. <3


End file.
